


Of Blood and Magic

by ElnaK



Category: American Horror Story: Hotel, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Person of Interest (TV), Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, I'm sure there are a few other things too, Partial Memory Loss, Reborn - Freeform, Somehow, Voldemort has no idea what's going to hit him, and, and because I like to mess with things, boy!Root, fem!Damon, fem!Gabriel, half-vampire!Alaric, oh!, super secret club for the resurrected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:44:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6476266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElnaK/pseuds/ElnaK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of season 5, Damon and Alaric, and maybe a few others ( noooo! don't look at the tags! Damnit, you just did ) get taken by the Void... but instead of dying, they simply get reborn in another world... with other rules... and other problems. They don't exactly remember who they were, but they know, and the facts are that both enter Hogwarts in 1991. Just when The-Boy-Who-Lived starts school too. Damn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From another life

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really, really shouldn't be writing thi, you know. But I was stuck on the other stories, and well... I just had to write at least the first chapter. I'll try to write regularly enough, but it's only my sixth on-going story. No pressure. Erm...  
> I'll try to make it one chapter every month, and I promise it won't be less than one every two months. Really.
> 
> Oh, and this is not a Harry-gets-new-friends-in-Gryffindor-right-away story. They won't completely ignore each other, but still. The first years will be particularly separated. I've warned you.  
> And as I don't think immortality works well with HP ( if it did, why the hell Voldepants had to try so hard to get immortal, uh? ), and as we don't really know much about vampires in HP, mine are not immortals. They are extremely difficult to kill though, and usually die of old age. They are a species, and not created by infection. Got it? I don't want someone to rant about it for some reason or another.
> 
> And why I messed with Damon's gender and Alaric's species? Because I like to and for once I didn't want to write a slash story between them. That's all.

 There was death awaiting them, he was sure of it. He could see it, he could hear it, he could sense it. Death was just there, waiting for them to be taken into the Void.

Well. Not death, really. He was, they were already dead. So obviously, it wasn't death waiting for them. Death could not claim the dead. It had already claimed them. And they were dead. There was no asking it.

The truth was, they had asked for it.

To be dead, that is. Not to be there, right now, in this situation. If someone had asked Damon his authorization before putting him in this freaking situation, he'd have declined. Truly.

But he had willingly used his camaro to crash into a building, in order to murder a few Travelers, in a zone where he would have died anyway, because no magic and vampires and all that, even if he hadn't been in said camaro when the thing went boom! So he had totally asked for it.

On the other hand, maybe saying that Alaric had asked for it wasn't really accurate. His best friend hadn't even been himself when he had died, one year ago, so he could hardly have asked for it.

Alright, Damon had asked for it, but Alaric hadn't.

Whatever.

What was a problem wasn't that they were both dead, in other words, ghosts. They had a witch waiting for them to get back to life not far away. Erm, life wasn't quite... unlife would have to do. Being dead wasn't a problem. Or, more accurately, even if it could somehow be seen as a problem, it wasn't their biggest problem.

Their biggest problem was that the Other Side was falling into pieces.

Or being swept up into some sort of black hole. Your choice. The second figure was more of a description, actually. There was really a black hole in the Other Side, and ghosts were currently being taken by it, into the Void. And of course, Damon, same as Alaric, was about to get taken too.

Brrr...

The Void. Not reassuring at all.

The dead vampire... dead-dead vampire-ghost... shuddered as he stared with some kind of terrified fascination at the black hole that he could feel getting a grip on him. Yeah, awe, that was it. Damon stared with awe at the black hole.

He had sent Elena ahead, and he was quite sure she'd manage to get back to life... unlife... before it was too late, but this time Damon could just tell he wouldn't have that chance.

He shared a grim look with Alaric, just as he felt the grip get stronger. There was no escaping it, now.

“ _Bye, brother.”_

Ric smiled a sinister grin, and looked ahead, into the black hole.

“ _I'm not your brother, Damon, but I couldn't care less right now.”_

They both knew it, somehow. It was too late.

It wasn't death that awaited them, on the other side of that black hole.

They were already dead. Hell, they were even accustomed to death. Ric more so than Damon, and that was already something, considering Damon was currently the ghost of a vampire, meaning he had died once when he had been turned, and a second time when he had become a ghost. Alaric was way farther up on that scale, though. The guy was simply dead no less than eight times. Eight freaking times. He had come back thanks to a magical ring, most of the times, and after that he had been turned into a vampire, and after that he had finally been properly dead.

The point was, they knew death.

But there, they had absolutely no idea what awaited them, on the other side of that black hole.

Before Damon could say another word, the Void was taking him. His eyes fell onto his best friend, whom he saw relent one moment only after him. The two shared one last glance.

Just before he got completely swallowed by the Void, though, Damon bet that it was only utter destruction of his soul and mind that awaited him, on the other side of that black hole.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

 

“Hush, lovely... There, there. Meet your father, won't you?”

Alba Salvatore held her newborn daughter in her arms with care. The labor hadn't been easy, but it hadn't lasted long either; the witch surely was tired, but not so much that she wouldn't take her beautiful daughter, her little Dana, in her arms. Alba was fine enough for that.

The new mother looked up from the baby and to the father, who was standing just near her, obviously nervous, and definitely wondering if there wasn't a risk of him dropping the child and breaking her somehow. Alba almost laughed; she had never seen her husband truly terrified. In fact, she had always believed he didn't know the real meaning of the word “fear”. Apparently she had been wrong.

Dana's father smiled almost shyly, as his wife turned the baby for her to look at him.

“She got your eyes, Alba.”

The witch snorted; she knew very well what he was trying to do.

“Take her, you oaf. You won't fool me into forgetting about that.”

And seeing the face he pulled, Alba rolled her eyes.

“No, you won't break her. Now take her or I won't acknowledge our wedding even once this war is finished.”

Her husband stared at her for a moment, disbelieving, but eventually reached for his daughter... who had been staring at him with clear blue eyes for a good minute.

“I hope she doesn't end up with your temper too.”

“Yours is worse than mine.”

“Rectification: I hope she doesn't have both our tempers.”

“Being raised by the two of us? Fat chance of that, truly.”

The two parents grinned at each other, but soon enough their attention was back on the little human being that the father was currently holding, and who was staring at him as if he had done something wrong. Which was surely the case, Alba mused. The point was, how would Dana know about it?

“She's staring into my soul, Alba, I swear.”

“Just like her mother, then.”

The wizard winced: it was too true, that.

There was a time of silence, as a nurse came by and did various things. At some point, Dana was taken away, apparently to do some sorts of test. The mother watched anxiously as her daughter was carried away by a nurse, but her husband held her hand.

As soon as they were alone again, Alba spoke her fears. Even if most weren't really rational, she still was worried. She couldn't really trust muggles with her newborn daughter.

“Alba, we have already talked about that. We've kept our wedding a secret, even from our friends, because of the danger that would come upon you if it was known. The war is raging right now, and I am not... I am not safe. It's too dangerous for you to be known as my wife, and adding Dana into the mess doesn't make me feel any better. I am a prime target, don't forget that.”

“I'd rather you weren't... We're both purebloods, after all. We shouldn't have to be worried.”

Alba saw her husband's face harden.

“We've already talked about that too, Alba. I won't change my mind.”

“I know, and I don't want you to. It's just that sometimes, I wish you hadn't had to make your mind.”

They shared a weary smile. He had taken a side, and she agreed with him. They just couldn't stay neutral in that civil war that was tearing apart wizarding England. Even being neutral wasn't a guarantee, anyway.

Alba's husband went to sit on the nearby chair, and he sighed deeply.

The witch had always known there was something about him, something dark and terrible, something quite insane but terribly clever, absolutely able to hide from plain sight as long as it wished to remain unseen. She had always known, and the truth was, anyone with half a brain who knew her husband could just tell. It wasn't as if he was hiding it, after all. Most of the time he was even putting it on display for all to see, but just enough so that no one could prove anything.

His part in the war wasn't surprising. He had to fight for what he believed, but it wasn't the only reason. It was good for him, even if he hated himself for that, because he needed to vent that madness in him, one way or another. Alba knew he could have kept it inside without difficulty. But it would have been nothing but a weight on his mind.

The wizard turned his head, staring at the door where his daughter had just disappeared. He had a thoughtful look on his face.

“It's for the best, I suppose, that Dana have your eyes and not mine. Mine are far too rare for you to pretend she isn't my daughter if it comes to that.”

She didn't answer. She knew he was right, and she knew it could come down to this. Depending on how the war would end, it might be better if no one knew whose daughter Dana was.

It didn't mean Alba was happy with it being so.

Sometimes it frightened her, how he was able to just ignore his own feelings. He was so much of a Slytherin, at times, that she wondered with some fear if he hadn't fooled her, too. She knew it wasn't true, of course. He wasn't only a Slytherin, and not all Slytherins were bad, after all. Even he said it.

Looking around and at the strange devices in the room to think about something else, Alba remembered her surprise when he had said they'd have to take her to a muggle maternity clinic, because he couldn't be seen with her at St. Mungo's, and he refused to miss the birth of his daughter for all that.

Her husband really was taking everything into account.

And she had no idea how he was doing that.

“I just hope this will end soon.”

His incredible eyes turned back to look at her, and Alba had to stop herself from shivering.

“So do I, my love.”

 

Dana was almost two years old, when the news came.

The little girl had been playing with her mother for the past hour, when an owl delivered the newspaper, and Alba saw the headline.

At first she couldn't believe it.

He was gone.

Gone.

A great warmth invaded her heart, and she only stared at the newspaper.

No matter on what side her husband fought, it didn't matter. No one knew everything about him, anyway. He wasn't in danger anymore. The war had come to an end, and at least, the bloodbaths would soon end. He wasn't in any danger anymore. What was left was easy enough to deal with. He was an expert at the Dark Arts, after all, even if he wouldn't admit it to anyone.

Alba knew some people on both sides of the war, and if she didn't agree with some of them, she still was sure both sides were, for the most part, relieved that the war had ended. The blood purists surely would be bitter, but even them had started to grow weary with the state of things. People died on both sides, after all, and purebloods were waning as a consequence.

Her husband was safe, now, and she would be able to make their marriage official, and to give her daughter the name she should have had since the day she had been born. Alba would be able to meet her husband's friends, finally, and Dana would meet their children. There was no more hiding it, that Dana wasn't only her daughter, but his too.

For the past two years, they had pretended she had just moved from Italy after her pureblood husband had passed away, after only a few weeks of marriage. No one had questioned it. The war was raging in England, but it had reached Europe alright too. It wasn't as terrible, obviously, but there had been a few deaths, and the Salvatores were well-know in the wizarding world. No one would question her story... even if it was a bit strange for someone who had just lost her husband to come to the country where the causes of his death were the strongest.

“Mama!”

Alba was startled out of her thoughts by her daughter's voice, who was looking at her with big, reproachful eyes. They had stopped playing as she had been paying the owl, and Dana was growing impatient.

Her mother smiled brightly. Her husband hadn't been wrong: Dana had gotten the worst of their two tempers. Alba was already dreading the letters from the teachers for misbehavior when the girl would get to Hogwarts.

“Wait a little more, love. Dad will come home with good news this afternoon, and I'm sure we will play a lot more then. But for now I need you to leave me the time to read, alright?”

Unsurprisingly, the little monster that was Alba's daughter squinted at her mother. She had a calculating look on her face, and Alba didn't doubt her husband had made the exact same face at the same age, when he hadn't yet been able to hide everything he felt if he wished to.

“Dad and Mama will play with me all evening?”

Alba froze at the thought, not sure about what exactly she was promising, but very certain that it would be exhausting. Her husband would surely be able to handle Dana, no matter the day he'd have spent before coming home, because the wizard was as much of a devil in disguise as his daughter, but Alba herself certainly wouldn't last long.

“Of course, sweetheart. Now, why don't you go and busy yourself with... that toy broom your father got you last year for your birthday?”

Alba cringed as Dana's eyes lit up with a frightening glint. It wasn't everyday that the witch allowed her daughter to play with that device from hell, and there was a reason for that. Alba still hadn't forgiven her husband for that gift of his.

Her smile came back, though, as the girl happily ran back to her room to get the toy broom, and surely break one vase or two with it. Alba could already imagine all the _reparo_ she'd have to perform before the end of the day, but still, it was nice to see Dana so happy.

Then she turned back to the newspapers, and started to read the article that told of Lord Voldemort's fall.

Alba turned white as she read.

She knew these names. She didn't know the persons, but she knew the names. And she knew what they meant, together with the words that followed these names.

The Potters were dead. It was what had, somehow, killed Voldemort. Their deaths, and the fact that their boy had lived, no matter the killing curse directed at him.

The warmth that had taken to live in her as she had read the headline had disappeared.

The Potters were dead. And she could only know the consequences.

Or so she thought.

Her husband never came home, and Dana Salvatore remained a Salvatore, as did her mother.

 

Alba brought herself to finally go to Hogwarts in the beginning of november 1990. She knew she had to, and she hoped it wouldn't be for nothing. Dumbledore was a fair wizard, but with what her husband had done... No matter how she couldn't believe it, she couldn't either not believe it. He had always been so...

But still, no matter what her husband had done, Alba had to believe Albus Dumbledore would give a chance to her daughter, no matter what. The Headmaster of Hogwarts wasn't one to judge on family, she knew that.

But considering what had happened with the most famous person Dumbledore had chosen to give a chance to, in spite of their background...

Alba was turning paler as she thought back to the case of Sirius Orion Black, and she ought to stop that. She couldn't let someone see her fears, lest they might understand why she was here. It wasn't likely, but it could happen.

And she had come here only for this not to happen.

The gates of Hogwarts opened before her, and Alba saw a stern witch waiting for her on the other side. She shyly entered the grounds of the famous wizarding school. Herself, she had only gone to a small unregistered school in Italy, that had good teachers, but expensive fees. There hadn't really been something like a castle or anything. So it was the first time she walked on the grounds of a magical school, and while her husband had told her many things about it, she still couldn't really picture it.

“Mrs. Alba Salvatore, I suppose?”

Alba quietly acknowledged the assumption, even if she still ached to tell that no, it wasn't right! “Mrs. Salvatore” wasn't true, since Salvatore was her maiden name, and she was married, not to a Salvatore, but to another pureblood... But she had told everyone Salvatore was her husband's name, because she couldn't bear to imagine Dana being shunned as an illegitimate child, which she wasn't, or because of her true surname.

It was the reason Alba had decided to come to Hogwarts before the admission letter got written and sent.

“I am the Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, and also the transfiguration professor of this school. The Headmaster is waiting for you in his office, as you requested for an interview. I will guide you there.”

They walked through the castle, and Alba saw a few students look at her with curious eyes, but she ignored them. She was too taken with the castle itself. Her husband had said the truth, it truly was incredible...

Alba tore her thoughts away from the wizard who had broken her heart.

Minerva McGonagall was watching her, she noticed, but she couldn't tell why exactly.

“You weren't a student here, were you?”

The question startled her, but Alba eventually remembered what he had told her. McGonagall had already been his professor, back in the days. It wasn't surprising that the teacher would remember not having had the younger witch as a student. The stern witch didn't seem like someone who would forget her past students, even the less noticeable ones.

“No, I am Italian. But my daughter was born here, in England, a few months after I moved.”

“Then I suppose you are here to discuss something about her admission? There is nothing to fear, she would have gotten a letter even if she hadn't been born in the country, Mrs. Salvatore. As long as the child lives in Hogwarts' juridiction, they are offered a place, if that is what worried you.”

Alba smiled sadly, wishing it was so simple.

“There is more to it, Professor McGonagall. Much more, in truth, but I am afraid I can speak of that only to the Headmaster.”

The stern witch didn't seem to be offended, or even particularly curious, and they finally arrived before a gargoyle. Alba eyed the thing doubtfully, ready to run away if it even moved an inch. Her memories about magical gargoyles were far from great, after an incident at a duomo when she had been fifteen.

Looking at the gargoyle with distaste too, but obviously not for the same reason, the transfiguration professor spoke up.

“Liquorice wand.”

Alba started, and turned to look at the stern witch in surprise, but the gargoyle suddenly turned on itself, revealing a staircase, and making her start once again. Apparently it had been a password.

Soon enough, Alba found herself sitting before the aged and genial Albus Dumbledore, eating a lemon drop. She wasn't exactly sure how it had happened, but it had happened, and she had just discovered she actually liked lemon drops.

Minerva McGonagall had left them almost immediately, and now, Alba was alone with a wizard to whom she had to say the truth about her daughter and her husband, not knowing what would come out of it. Of course, even if it went for the worst, she still had to try. Even if Albus Dumbledore refused to give Dana a chance, it would have happened whether or not she had come. But if it went for the best... It would remain a secret for a little more time.

Maybe forever.

The old wizard sitting behind a desk covered with strange silver devices looked at the thirty-two years old witch before him with curiosity. Albus had heard about Alba Salvatore, of course, but he had heard little. Little was said about her, besides the fact that her husband had died in Italy, during the war. No one even knew on which side the wizard had been... or if he had only been an unwanted victim.

“What brought you here, Mrs. Salvatore?”

The Headmaster saw the witch stiffen a bit at the mention of her name, and he thought it odd. Odd how, he didn't know, but odd nonetheless.

Alba took a deep breath, readying herself to admit a thing she had not told a soul in ten years. It was all for Dana's sake. Everything was for Dana.

“My daughter will be eleven the seventh of December, Headmaster Dumbledore, and I had to see you before her letter was written.”

Surprising, that. Albus' eyes twinkled, as he tried to solve this riddle. For now, he was gathering hints.

“And why is that?”

The witch surely tensed at the question, and her answer was soft, almost quiet.

“I never told anyone, not even Dana, what her true surname is.”

The twinkle in Albus' eyes almost died, but he kept it going, if only to reassure the mother who sat before him. He didn't like the way it was going. He could only see two reasons for Alba Salvatore to keep her husband's name a secret from even their daughter, and neither was good.

“I hoped you could manage to keep it a secret too. I have been told the names of the students were magically added from a book in the castle, but I can't have her, or anyone else than me and you for the matter, know her true name.”

“The 'true name' you are speaking of, Mrs. Salvatore, is not a problem, I dare say. It is true that the book cannot be fooled, but it in fact shows the name that the future student thinks to be theirs. It wouldn't do if an orphan received their letter but thought it had been adressed to the wrong person.”

The witch seemed way less distraught after the Headmaster told her that, but something told him she would speak nonetheless. She obviously needed to confide in someone, and she had already admitted to him that there was more than met the eye to the story of her husband...

If he even was her husband.

Still, Albus didn't want to force her.

“You don't have to tell me who is the father, you know that, don't you?”

Alba laughed a bit, but even to her, it sounded hollow and false.

“I don't, but I will. I don't know you enough, Headmaster Dumbledore, to trust you, but you are the one I can distrust the less. And I've already piqued your curiosity. Even if you don't search for the truth in acts, you will end up looking at Dana differently, now. Searching for clues, at least in her features and behavior. Dana... she's much like her father, and yet she's not. I fear, now that you know there is something, that you'll just find it over time.”

Dumbledore stayed silent for a moment, accessing the young witch before him. She was smart, if bit shy, and apparently very caring. He didn't want her to suffer through her revelation, but apparently she was determined to say it.

“I'll listen, then.”

Alba tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Her lips twitched, and eventually she accepted defeat.

So she asked for a quill. She wouldn't let him absolutely defeat her.

The Headmaster gave it to her, more and more worried as to what would come out of this. For the witch not to be able to even say the name of her daughter's father...

Albus made a point not to look at her as she struggled to write the two words that would seal her decision. Even so, he couldn't miss how her hand was trembling, how a tear fell on the parchment.

Finally she handed him the paper.

He looked at it only once it was in his hand.

It almost fell out of his hand.

“Was it an... accident?”

The wizard hadn't been known to sleep around. Then again, apparently no one had really known him, so Albus could be wrong. And he hoped he was, because if he wasn't, there were still two explanations, and...

Alba smiled strangely, a smile full of pain.

“It happens that I wish it were. It happens that the mere idea revolts me. I still can't believe it, to be frank. But it wasn't an accident.”

The Headmaster felt very cold, but let nothing to be seen of it. He understood why she didn't want it to be known. No one would want it to be known, if it had happened to them. Especially if it wasn't an accident.

“Was it... violent?”

Albus could never have thought that of the wizard, but he had been proven wrong so spectacularly before, that he couldn't push the idea aside.

Alba's smile turned into a wince.

“We were married, Headmaster. We never told anyone, supposedly for my... protection, but we got married in january 1979. And he was so perfect that I...”

She felt something cold and wet roll out of her eyes, and she cursed quietly. She had known it would happen, but she had hoped...

She missed the way Dumbledore's face twitched as well.

“Everybody thought him perfect too, Mrs. Salvatore. You can't be blamed for this. And be assured that I will keep this a secret.”

No matter what.

 

On the first of september 1991, Alba and Dana Salvatore stood together on the platform nine and three-quarters. They were watching the red train, the Hogwarts Express, that the youngest of the two witches would take in less than half an hour.

Alba Salvatore was a slender woman, with an olive-colored skin and long black hair pulled into a ponytail. Her face was a bit round. Her eyes were a freezing blue, quite surprising with her skin color, but well... She always wore black robes or muggle clothes, but with accessories of pastel colors. She was truly beautiful, and many wondered why the pureblooded italian witch was still single. She'd smile, and wouldn't answer when someone asked her.

Dana Salvatore, on the other hand, didn't look very much like her mother, and yet one could see the family resemblance. Unlike her mother, her face was squared enough that it could be seen despite the chubbiness of her eleven years old. Her hair was even a bit darker than Alba's. Straight, still, just like her mother, and cut at elbow length. Her mother had tried to get them longer, but Dana would scowl and say she liked it better that way. Her skin was surprisingly light, and the girl supposed it came from her father, about whom her mother never spoke. But she had her mother's beautiful eyes.

It wasn't often that people saw Dana Salvatore in public, but there was no denying it was her.

“I'll miss you, little monster.”

And the mother ruffled her daughter's black hair.

“Don't call me that! I haven't made anything explode in two weeks!”

And it was true. Since Dana had gotten her wand at Ollivanders', her magic had been kept in check way better than before.

It relieved Alba, who had no one to turn to, considering the... particular nature of her daughter's accidental magic, that was sometimes quite... dangerous. When Dana had been six, the witch had given up and gone to see the girl's great-grandfather, who was the only one, besides herself, and now, Albus Dumbledore, to know of the identity of Dana's father. She hadn't had a choice, and her husband had warned her that it might happen, at some point. But he had been supposed to be there, when it'd happen. He hadn't been there.

So she had gone to see his grand-father, who already knew of Dana's existence. After all, her husband had had to go and talk to him, to assure than he would keep it a secret, even before their daughter had been born. But now, Dana's great-grandfather was dead, and there was no one to turn to, when Dana lost control.

But now, Dana had a wand, and if Ollivander had stared at her daughter for longer than warranted, and if her wand had a thestral's hair in it, it didn't change the fact that Alba was relieved. Even if it was possible because Dana was going to Hogwarts this day, meaning mother and daughter wouldn't get to see each other much from now on.

Alba's heart clenched as she thought back on it. First her husband, and now her daughter...

But no, Dana wasn't gone for ever. She'd come back for Christmas, and she'd write. It wasn't like him.

They had arrived early, because no matter how much she wished to stay, Alba had to leave before the train would depart, because of her work at the Ministry. Yet another reason why she couldn't let anyone know about her husband.

Eventually Alba had to help her daughter to get her trunk in the train. She hugged Dana for a long time, and made her promise three times over that she would write at least once a week. And directly after the Sorting, too. And that she'd try not to antagonize someone on the first day. And that she'd be polite to the teachers. And...

Dana scoffed and sat on the seat nearest to her to escape from her mother, sulking a bit. Alba saw this, and made for the door. Before she could step out of the compartment, however, her daughter was up and grabbing her sleeve.

“Mum... you'll write back, won't you?”

Alba laughed, promised that yes, she'd write back, and kissed Dana's forehead. Then she left, hoping that her daughter wouldn't stay alone for too long. It was ten before eleven, so the students were already coming, and she wasn't too worried about that.

Merlin, it would be strange not to have Dana around.

The girl had sat back after a while, looking at the retreating figure of her mother. She was considering going back to sulking, when a blond boy entered her compartment.

Dana squinted.

Who was this boy who thought he could just...

Right, it wasn't her room. Still, she reserved herself the right to kick him out if he was intrusive, noisy, rude, or ugly. She had come in here first.

She kept silent as he did his best to get his trunk above the seats, watching him as a cat would look at a mouse. He was a bit taller than her, and his blond hair fell just at the base of his neck. For some odd reason, she felt his hair should have been just a tad darker, as sometimes she had the impression hers ought to be a bit lighter, and not ink black as it was.

Then the boy turned, about to say something, surely “nice to meet you” or “good morning”.

But their eyes met, and no words came out.

Dana wasn't sure what shocked her most. His eyes, or the fact that she felt she knew him from long ago, from another world, from another time, from another life.

Of course, she only managed to say something stupid.

“Your eyes are supposed to be blue, Alaric.”

How she knew his name, she didn't know, and why she thought he was supposed to have blue eyes, she wasn't sure, but something moved in the back of her mind, struggling to get free.

The boy was the same age as her, obviously a first year. His face wasn't as squarish as hers, and his nose was wonderfully straight, but what was mesmerizing was definitely the fact that his eyes were freakingly blood red.

The boy stared at her for a while, then something seemed to make sense to him, nevermind that it didn't to her, because he spoke, just like she had.

“And you're supposed to be a boy, Damon.”

“Dana.”

It had gone out without her approval, but Dana didn't care at all, at that moment. There were waves of memories coming onto her, and she really, really didn't know what to make of it. The fact that he had acknowledged he was in the same case as her wasn't helping, even if it told her she wasn't the only one to be crazy.

Because it had to be it, hadn't it?

There was no way these memories could be hers.

“Alright, Dana Salvatore. I'm Alaric Saltzman. Nice to meet you.”

And she responded dumbly.

She was supposed to be a pureblooded witch of eleven years old who knew nothing about her father, not a one hundred and seventy-two years old vampire who was supposed to be dead in another world that worked with different rules, and, most of all, who was supposed to be a male.

Then again, Alaric Saltzman wasn't supposed to be an eleven years old wizard with red eyes.


	2. "S"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter works even more in French, as Ravenclaw is "Serdaigle", but well...
> 
> And I decided to go by the idea that Hogwarts has around 840 students, meaning around 120 in each year, because I personally think 250 students is just not enough. With 120 witches and wizards a year, maybe 130~140 with the homeschooled, and if you take 80 years old as a normal age to die for the wizards ( some are really older than that, but some dies very young too, accidents and murders included ), it counts around 11000~12000 wizarding people in England & Cie... which is still nothing, with 60 millions of people in the United Kindgom.  
> I know it makes huge classes when two Houses are mixed, but I really am not cofortable with less people.

The two children stared at one another for a moment, before Dana finally managed to grumble something that sounded more like “same thing” than a greeting.

Alaric's mouth turned into a small smile, as he recalled another person, who looked much like the young witch, and at the same time did not, and whose temper wasn't much better. The boy took a seat, watching Dana / Damon in wonder.

It was all coming back to him, somehow. It was blurry, yet, because there was so much to remember, so much information to go through... Those were thirty-five years to add to his life, in just a few moments, and if for now he had a relatively good picture of his past story, the details were not here yet. For now, he thought it better to just keep it that way, and not to intentionally prod at the memories. He didn't want to be submerged, and he hoped the girl would be wise enough to do just the same.

The girl, Dana Salvatore...

The man, the vampire. Damon. Damon Salvatore. His best friend. The vampire who had killed him twice. The blood. The pain. The anger. The...

No!

He had to keep the memories away. That Alaric Saltzman wasn't anymore. The boy would not let himself be swallowed up by his memories.

His other past, his other life. His other world, too, because Alaric was certain that vampires, werewolves and witches at least, were much different here from his former life. Moreover, he hadn't been a magical being back then, not until Esther had...

The boy's eyes lit up in realization, and Dana couldn't stop herself from asking, instead of sulking.

“Did you remember beforehand?”

The spark in the red eyes disappeared, and Alaric winced a bit, as if he had just noticed he was doing something he wasn't supposed to do. Then, to Dana's great surprise, the bloody color of his eyes melted into a duller, more normal blue. A blue she knew too well.

The girl had already forgotten her question, gobsmacked.

“What just happe...”

“I didn't.”

It took her a while before Dana realized he was answering her first question.

Alaric, as if to draw her attention away from the mystery of his changing eye color, continued.

“I didn't remember 'Damon' and all the others until just now. I think our meeting triggered the memories, and if we hadn't met, we'd have simply lived this life as if nothing had happened. It's possible that the Void was more of a door to another world, and our souls got reborn here.”

Then the boy looked critically at the young girl who was staring at him with wide eyes. A teasing smile was tugging at his lips, but he tried, rather unsuccessfully to be frank, to erase it.

“Though I have no idea how you ended up so... feminine.”

Dana scowled at the boy, and entertained the idea to poke him with her wand. She didn't know enough magic yet to do Alaric any harm, unless having his hair standing on end was considered harmful. Though, she mused, it would be harmful to his reputation if he went to the Sorting Ceremony like that..

Alaric truly didn't like the calculating glint in Dana's eyes. He remembered it too well on Damon's face, even if he tried to keep the memories at bay, and he had an inkling that what occupied her thoughts right now was in no way charitable.

But Dana only snorted, arms crossed on her chest. Maybe killing her past / alternative / whatever best friend's social life so early on was not the best way, not to regain his friendship, she still wasn't sure he deserved to be friend with someone as awesome as herself, but to get to know a bit more about what had happened to her... Starting with, why wasn't she a he in this second life?

“You're one to speak, with your red eyes.”

The boy squinted at her, his eyes still very blue, but for a second Dana thought she had seen a spot of red appear, as if in malevolence. But no, there wasn't anything. This was troubling.

But not as troubling as the fact that Alaric dismissed her comment, stating that maybe she should have her eyesight looked at, because his eyes were definitely blue.

Dana glared at him, but before she could say more, three other kids entered the compartment and asked if they could sit with them. Alaric was quick to accept, daring her with a single glance to refuse, and the two didn't speak about their mutual situation after that.

Two of the newcomers were first years as them, twin girls of indian descent, and apparently the other one was their older cousin, a fourth year in Ravenclaw, Vishesh Patil. They had presented themselves as soon as the teenager had helped the girls to get their trunks above the seats. Parents could get on the train to help, but it was an untold rule that during the last five minutes, only the students and staff could be on the train. It would be too complicated otherwise, and even more since the Hogwarts Express had had several magically added wagons, as it had to transport a bit more than eight hundred students at the beginning and the end of the year.

Dana was immediately interested by Hogwarts' Houses system. She looked eagerly, or maybe even hungrily, at Vishesh, and started asking questions.

“I've heard there are four Houses at Hogwarts, but I've only heard of Slytherin. And he didn't tell me much, mind you. How does the Sorting works? Is it true that you are chosen based on your personality? Can you tell me about the three other Houses?”

Alaric watched bemusedly at Dana. The young witch was doing a good job of keeping control of her voice, but the rest of her body just screamed her excitement. He had the feeling this wasn't normal behavior, if not for her, at least for Damon Salvatore... Then again, Dana was eleven years old, and not a bitter vampire. Maybe Damon had been like that, too, when he had been a child...

The boy pushed the thought away to listen to Vishesh's answer. Like the twins, he knew more than Dana seemed to know, but his parents still hadn't told him everything, to keep the surprise.

The fourth year sat down just as the train departed.

“You are muggle-born?”

“No, pure-blood, but Mum went to a small school in Italy, and she moved to England only after my father's death. She couldn't really tell me about Hogwarts.”

“Well, I won't tell you how the Sorting happens, but yes, it's about your personality. Your most prominent traits determine where you end up. There's Slytherin, for those who are cunning and ambitious. There's Ravenclaw, for those who are wise and like to learn. There's Hufflepuff, for those who are loyal and fair. And there's Gryffindor, for those who are brave and noble. Of course, being in one house doesn't mean you can't have the qualities or the flaws of the others. It just means they aren't the most important part of your personality.”

Seeing that Dana was frowning a bit, as if trying to see where she fitted, Vishesh pointed at himself.

“Me, for example. I'm a researcher at heart, and I have a logical mind, so Ravenclaw. But I'm hardly wise, and I tend to be reckless, even if I'm a loyal person. Recklessness is a flaw of some Gryffindors, because it is courage without wisdom. And loyalty is definitely a Hufflepuff trait.”

There Vishesh looked around the compartment, making sure that the children had understood what he meant. Padma, one of the twins, spoke then.

“I think I'll be in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, then.”

The other twin nodded at her sister, nodding with squinted eyes, as if she was assessing Padma under a new light. Eventually, Parvati shrugged.

“Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, for me. You always say I'm reckless.”

Padma grinned, and looked at Dana and Alaric.

“And you, which House do you think you belong to? I know it's not easy to say for sure, after all we don't really know ourselves at eleven, but you must have an idea?”

Alaric looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Erm... Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, I think. Though Hufflepuff could be an option for me too... Nah, in fact, no. Eagle or lion.”

Then the boy arched an eyebrow at Dana, who was still frowning in deep thoughts. The girl caught his eye and meaning, and pouted a bit. She had a feeling he had already pegged her for two Houses, and not for the two other ones, considering their shared memories. Not that she disagreed, but still.

“Slytherin or Gryffindor. I'm reckless to a fault, but noble? I don't think so. And Mum always says I'm as cunning as my father, though I can't tell exactly how cunning that is, as he's not...”

The four others shared an awkward look, and the conversation quickly turned to another subject. Dana did not take part in it, wondering about her parents.

Alba Salvatore hadn't said much to her daughter about her father, and now that she had Damon's memories, Dana just hoped he would have been a better father than Giuseppe Salvatore. All she knew about him was that he had been a pure-blood, cunning and courageous, dangerous, too, but loyal and very clever. Then again, it was her mother's point of view. Maybe it wasn't completely accurate...

As for her mother, Dana mused that Alba would surely have been in Hufflepuff, if the witch had been born in England rather than in Italy. Her mother was intelligent and hard-working, and she was nicer on a daily basis than Dana would ever be. Alba Salvatore was a very caring person. Dana was convinced she'd have been a Hufflepuff...

But in which House would her father have gone?

Dana pushed away the slight disappointment she always felt when she was reminded that she didn't even know her father's name. Apparently his first name was very traditional, and finished with “us”, as she had discovered a half-burned letter in their hearth one day, but it was all she knew for sure. That, and the fact that he had a very elegant, if sharp, handwriting.

Surely her mother had not meant to keep his name a secret, but it had happened. Maybe it was simply that Alba Salvatore couldn't bear with the pain that he wasn't here, and that's why she hadn't said his name in their home, not even once. It was even possible that her mother thought she had told Dana at some point... And Dana didn't want to hurt her mother's feelings, so she had said nothing.

But one day, the young witch knew she'd have to ask.

Some time passed, which Alaric spent both speaking with Vishesh about his future classes, and keeping an eye on Dana. The girl seemed to be a bit moody. It was obvious talking about her father had caused the mood change, but he didn't know what to say to comfort her. Truth to be told, he was a bit unsure about where he stood concerning Damon / Dana. The girl wasn't the vampire, and yet she was. They had the same personality, but not the same experience or the same age, and their family was fondamentally different from one world to the other.

Something that would have cheered up the vampire might not work for Dana. Especially if Alaric tried to cheer her up with a glass of bourbon, which he hadn't with him anyway, or by proposing to go and murder a few enemies before lunch...

Eventually Dana got out of her moody attitude, and started to speak with Parvati and Padma, though she did her best not to look at Alaric. She still felt strange about him, not really sure as to who they were to each other now. And it seemed the boy shared her feelings, because if she sometimes caught him sending her a worried glance, he never tried to start a conversation with her especially.

Around eleven and three quarters, Vishesh took out a game of Exploding Snap. Alaric and Padma shared a distraught look as Parvati and Dana started a game under the older boy's advice. It turned out that not only Vishesh was a good teacher, but Dana was terrific at Exploding Snap. Only Parvati and her cousin sometimes managed to beat her at it.

When the trolley witch came by their compartment, both Padma and Alaric sported the traces of numerous explosions, their fingers being almost blacker than the robes they were meant to wear for the coming year.

The twins took a chocolate frog each, Vishesh paid for a liquorice wand, Dana couldn't decide and so ended up with five kinds of sweet, but Alaric shook his head at the gentle witch. The two shared a smile, the trolley witch left for the next compartment, and Dana joked that the boy was already honing his skills upon the ladies.

Alaric scowled at her, and took out a blue lollipop from his pocket.

“I have enough sweets to last me the week, but unlike some people, I don't enjoy being rude.”

Dana squinted her eyes and stood up from her seat to be right before the door of the compartment, as if to forbid him from escaping.

“Who's rude in here?”

“I never said it was about one of us. But if you felt targeted, you surely have a good reason for that, don't you?”

And the two children started a staring contest, sweets immediately forgotten. Vishesh stiffled a laugh at the show they were making as he put away his Exploding Snap game. Padma and Parvati had not noticed the new feud, busy speaking in ushered tones about what they expected their first year to be like, and whether or not they'd end up in the same House.

Suddenly, the door to their compartment violently opened, and Dana turned around to see who was the “rude little shit” who couldn't see there was someone standing in the way.

It was a boy their age, with pale blond hair, a pointy chin, and blue eyes. Even if they were roughly the same height, he was looking at them down his nose, scanning the five students as if he was searching for someone. When it was obvious he hadn't found that person, he sneered a bit, making the two children / gorillas behind him laugh stupidly.

“Obviously he's not here. Great, you'll see I have to check all the compartments!”

His eyes left the Patils and went back to Dana, who had been squinting at him since he had opened the door as if she was trying to decide between dismemberment and beheading.

Taking in the girl's expensive clothes, the blond boy seemed to become suspiciously interested. A half-honest smile appeared on his lips, and he finally looked at her face to face.

“Who are you? The three behind you are obviously pure-bloods from that Patil family, and the boy must be some half-blood from the look of his sweatshirt, but you look a bit like my mother. Who are you?”

Dana snorted, apparently trying to outdo the boy in haughtiness.

“You're the one who wants to know, thus you should start by presenting yourself.”

“Arsehole” was not said, but clearly implied by her tone... And obvious to Alaric, who had had practice reading Damon before meeting Dana. Not that the boy cared, for he thought as much, his eyes drilling a hole in the heads of the two baboons who seemed to be the newcomer's bodyguards. If the blond boy wasn't paying him any attention, the two others were fidgeting under his gaze. They were possibly thrice stronger than him with only the two of them, but there was something unnerving about him, that they couldn't pinpoint, but made them shudder.

The newcomer's smile thinned, his lips now looking more stretched than anything else.

“Draco Malfoy.”

Then, as if an afterthought, he pointed at the two brutes behind him without even turning around.

“He's Crabbe, and he's Goyle. Pure-bloods. Who are you?”

Dana gave about as much attention to Crabbe and Goyle, whom she had already pegged as lackeys, as Malfoy had.

“Dana Salvatore. Now get out, you're rude. And don't come back until you've learned to be pleasant with other people.”

Alaric rolled his eyes behind the girls, and caught on the slightly unnerved look of the Patils as they watched the confrontation. Dana was going to be as much of a pain as Damon had been, apparently.

“Dana, you're being rude too. And while I understand your point, it won't be effective if you...”

As soon as he had spoken, the girl had turned to look at him. The look on her face set Malfoy off, though he didn't know why exactly, and the blond boy snapped at the other... well, the other blond boy.

“No one asked for your opinion!”

Alaric would have laughed Malfoy's reaction off, but Dana turned around brutally and pushed Malfoy out of the doorframe and onto his monkeyish bodiguards.

“What the hell are you...”

And the girl slammed the door shut, efficiently cutting off Malfoy's voice. Then she did her best to block the door, her back resting on it and her feet wedged against the doorframe. Behind the glass, the other occupants of the compartment could see Malfoy's furious face. The boy gave Dana a mean look that she couldn't see in her position, and stormed off, possibly to find the person he had been searching for at first, his cronies in tow.

Dana waited a good minute, in case he'd come back, and finally sat down.

“Git.”

Alaric raised an eyebrow, and the girl scoffed.

“What?”

“You're not bad at it yourself, you know.”

It was all it took to get the five chidren to giggle like their lives depended on it. Eventually Padma stopped laughing, and nudged at her twin sister to stop too. After that the laughter calmed down a bit, and the indian girl managed to speak.

“She's right, though. Malfoy's a git.”

Vishesh nodded seriously, and looked at Dana with a frown.

“He's going into Slytherin, ninety percents of his family went there. But you should be cautious, Dana, because they are usually vindictive people, and I don't think anyone ever talked like that to him. You don't want to become the Malfoys' enemy.”

The girl shrugged and looked at her sweets to decide which one she'd eat.

“Then he needed to be talked down. And I don't fear the Malfoys. Mum's family is abroad, that's true, but they're powerful enough, and I'm pretty sure they do business with the Malfoys. They do business with just about every powerful wizarding families in Europe, so...”

Vishesh seemed a bit reassured, but there worry remained on his face.

“Still, be careful.”

The rest of the train ride went rather uneventfully. At some point a pudgy boy and a girl with a bush of brown hair came by and asked if they had seen a wayward toad, but the children hadn't. The only animals they had seen on the train so far was Vishesh's owl, the frogs from the twins' chocolate frogs, and Malfoy's gorillas. They ate the sandwiches their parents had prepared for midday, and Dana slept for one hour and a half after that. When she woke up, Alaric was eating his lollipop, and the girl found the sweet had a strange scent, something vaguely familiar, but not exactly pleasant. The boy shrugged, saying it was only raspberry-flavoured. For some reason, Dana didn't believe him, and they started arguing again. Vishes really wished there was one of his friends in the compartment, if only to be able to exchange knowing looks about the two, but he had promised to his uncle to keep an eye on his cousins on the train ride.

Night finally fell on the outside world, and Vishesh's stomach growled shamelessly. The fourteen yeard old boy sighed, knowing very well that they were almost arrived at Hogwarts, but even once there, the dinner would still be at least one hour away, if there weren't too many near hatstalls. Most students didn't even take twenty seconds to be sorted, but add the time to get to the castle and a dozen of first years taking more than two minutes, and the welcoming feast could take some time before beginning. Vishesh understood that if they waited until after the feast, most students would be on their way to dreamland for the Sorting, but still...

The children changed into their robes, the first years having only grey where Vishesh's uniform was blue and bronze. Dana wondered which colors would adorn her tie after the Sorting, as she tugged on it pensively. Alaric rolled his eyes, and tied it for her correctly, under the squinted gazes of the twins.

They spent the last minutes of the ride in silence, and when the train finally stopped in Hogsmeade's station, a voice told them to leave their trunks in the train, that the staff would take care of them as they made their way to the castle.

The children descended from the train, and saw a giant of a man waving at them, calling the first years to him, not too far away. Padma and Parvati searched for their cousin's approval, but Dana bolted to the man, Alaric in a mildly reluctant tow.

Naturally, the twins stayed with Dana and Alaric, even if the boy had waved back at the pudgy boy from before. The two dimension-travelers were walking next to one another, but Dana behaved when the boy threatened to throw her in the lake as soon as they'd get there if she pulled his hair even once more.

“Well sorry, but it's disturbing! You're not supposed to have hair this length!”

The boy rolled his eyes, while Padma and Parvati looked at them, bemused. The boy and the girl had told them they had just met, but it seemed to them as if they had known each other all their life. And Dana kept making odd comments...

The giant man, Hagrid, led them to a large and black lake. Around thirty small boats were on the shore, and the kids found out they could take four first years for each boat.

The sight of Hogwarts ended the two's bickering for good. Dana was the only one of the four children not to have her mouth hanging open, but it was a near thing, and her eyes were wide open as she took in the many lights, and the silvery forms that floated around the castle, and which she suspected to be ghosts, even if they were too far away for her to be sure. Alaric was already starting to wonder about the different architectures that could be seen in different parts of the castle, though it was dark, and starting a rough mental plan of the place for future reference. The twins had stars shining in their eyes.

They got off the boats, not even aware of how much time had passed since they had descended from the train, and they walked in a long tunnel that ended on a large patch of lawn. The castle was only a few feet away. Hagrid went and knocked at the doors, which opened, revealing a stern-looking witch.

What happened next went in a blur for Dana, but Alaric was almost taking notes and mumbling under his breath. The first years were led to a small room, that is, large enough to contain one hundred and twenty or so eleven years old, from where they could hear the voices of the older students. Minerva McGonagall, the stern-looking witch, told them about the Sorting Ceremony and a few others things, and disappeared. Then Alaric started listening to the others children, who were trying to guess how the Sorting actually happened, scowling a bit when the hypotheses became completely ridiculous. Wrestling a troll, seriously? They didn't know any real magic for now, there was no way it was that.

The ghosts' entrance managed to startle the boy, though.

Finally McGonagall came back, and led them into the great hall.

Even Alaric started to have butterflies in his stomach, then. He didn't even notice the enchanted ceiling that looked like the sky, as he was taking in the seven hundreds of students that were sitting around them at four different tables, and the dozen of professors who were sitting at the end of the room, next to the worldly famous Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. His eyes locked with the old wizard's for a second, before they went to another boy with a mop of black hair who stood a bit further away. Alaric knew he'd have to meet with the Headmaster soon, to speak about his... circumstances.

He really wished he had one of his blue lollipops right now.

Dana nudged him to get his attention. McGonagall had brought a stool with a very old hat on it. Suddenly, the hat started singing. And so the Sorting Ceremony began.

The girl with bushy hair and the pudgy boy with the toad spent more time than most with the Hat, but they both went to Gryffindor. Malfoy didn't even have to keep the Hat on his head, for it immediately screamed Slytherin. Dana made a face at that, aware that she might very well end up in the same House. Padma ended up in Ravenclaw, and Parvati in Gryffindor. Then came a boy, the one with a mop of black hair, who made everyone in the Hall shut up, as they waited for him to be Sorted. It was a near hatstall, and he went to Gryffindor. By then the first years who had yet to be Sorted were becoming restless. They were tired with standing, and some even sat down. The professors ignored it, knowing it wasn't easy for them, and some of the older students snickered.

Finally the names in “S” came.

“Saltzman, Alaric.”

The boy took a deep breath, and walked to the Sorting Hat. He hesitated a moment, the Hat in his hands, wondering how exactly the magical artifact had been made to begin with. Then he put on the Hat, and waited.

He didn't have to wait long, as a voice sounded in his head almost right away.

“ _Interesting child, if you can be called that... What is it about you? Yes, you saw it right, eagle or lion, but still more of one than the other. Don't waste this second chance, for rare it is to be granted one!”_

And then the Hat screamed to the school, but it didn't sound that terrible, curiously, to Alaric's ears:

“RAVENCLAW!”

The boy took off the Sorting Hat and gave it back to the professor McGonagall. His eyes searched once more for the Headmaster's, and he felt relief when the old man smiled and indicated the table of the eagles with a nod.

As Alaric walked to the table, his robes turned a dark blue where they used to be grey, and bronze on the edges. He, however, did not notice, as he was too overwhelmed by the realization that yes, he was a Hogwarts student. He had never been sure that he would actually be allowed to join, even with Dumbledore's assurance that the school had known worst circumstances than his.

But he was here.

During the train ride, he had been too preoccupied with his newfound memories, but now that he was separated from Dana / Damon, the reality of this life, and not the ghost of that life, was taking over.

Padma gestured for him to come, and Alaric sat between the indian girl and another boy with freckles who had been sorted before him. On the other side of the table, Vishesh was sitting too, but his gaze was back onto the Sorting Hat.

Alaric suddenly realized that Dana, given her surname, would be right after him.

Dana, indeed, was about to sit on the stool, Sorting Hat in hands. She glanced nervously at Alaric, who had just turned to look at her, and was a bit sad that he hadn't gone to Gryffindor. There, she might have joined him, but she certainly didn't feel like a Ravenclaw...

The girl refrained the urge to gulp loudly, and put the Hat on.

There was a silence, which didn't make her feel reassured at all. She didn't know, of course, that the Sorting Hat talked to the students, because it didn't do so out loud, but still, she was a bit nervous. What if the Hat simply didn't work on her, for some reason?

Dana started when the Hat's voice suddenly spoke to her.

“ _Well well well, yet another one... And there is no telling, you are a difficult one... But not as difficult as your father, dear. You could have gone over to Gryffindor, true, but it is not the House that is the best for you.”_

“ _Wait, what about my...!”_

But the Sorting Hat was already screaming “SLYTHERIN!”. Perturbed, Dana took it off, and walked over to the slytherin table, a frown on her face.

Then she caught sight of Draco Malfoy's horrified face, and the temptation was too strong. A cheschire smile took control of her lips, and she went to sit down right between the two baboons, on the other side of the table. The girl who was already leaning on Malfoy like a leech gave her a suspicious look, but said nothing. Crabbe and Goyle inched away from her, which was quite humorous as they were quite obviously stronger than her... But more stupid, too.

The Headmaster made a short welcoming speech, and even if it was a bit strange, Dana wasn't against it. Who said people had to make sense to be efficient, after all? And anyway, she was hungry, so the shorter, the better.

The feast went quite well, even if, for some reason, her fork seemed to just want to go and take a bite at Malfoy. Dana surely had no idea why, and made sure he knew that. For some reason the blond boy didn't seem to buy her sorry look, though. No idea why, honestly.

What was really surprising, though, was that by the end of the feast, neither Crabbe nor Goyle could be found next to her. Instead, they were sitting on Draco Malfoy's other side, as opposed to the one where Pansy Parkinson was leeching on him. Hell, she wasn't even sure they had been here when the feast started. Dana could only guess that the two idiots had grovelled under the table at some point.

She wasn't this intimidating, was she?

Well, if Crabbe and Goyle apparently thought so, it wasn't the case of most of the first years who had thus found themselves next to Dana. Daphne Greengrass was a nice girl, and Leane McClee seemed to like her a lot. Malfoy had sneered, when he had learned Leane was muggle-born, and Dana had glared at him.

It was obvious that Slytherin didn't have as many muggle-borns as the other Houses, and more pure-bloods too, but with twenty nine new students, it was inevitable that some were muggle-borns. Four, this year, two boys and two girls. It wasn't as if ambition and cunning weren't possible personality traits for their kind.

Finally Dumbledore rose from his seat once again, and asked for the students' attention. Some of the rules were mentioned, and Dana iddly wondered if it was possible to break them all in one year. She was starting to feel tired, but she still glanced at Alaric when Dumbledore mentioned the forbidden corridor, and unsurprisingly, the boy was already staring at her from the ravenclaw table, as if to make a silent threat. She rolled her eyes. The boy knew her too well, and they didn't even know each other!

...In this lifetime, at least.

After that came the time to sing the school song, and a third year snickered when he looked at their Head of House, who, for once, didn't look out of place with his scowl. All the professors besides Dumbledore and Flitwick seemed to have frozen in place.

Dana understood after that, because the school song sure was strange. Herself, she found it amusing, but a glance at Alaric was enough to make her laugh. His smile was frozen, just like McGonagall's. She had to remember that expression! It was a shame that she couldn't take a picture, in fact. Oh well, maybe she could make it next year...

The feast ended, Alaric and Dana shared one last glance, and the prefects led the students to their respective common room. The Slytherins' was in the dungeons. It was a bit cold, but not so much that it was a problem. And the view in the lake ought to be great, though you couldn't see anything at night.

Problems arose when the first years had to choose with whom they would spend the rest of the year. Twenty nine new students, and six rooms for the first years dormitories. Three for the boys, three for the girls.

It could have been simple. They could simply have gone where their trunks had been put, and followed the random allotment. Dana even suspected it was usually the case in the other Houses.

But Malfoy was a git, and this was Slytherin.

“I won't sleep in the same room as a mudblood!”

The blond boy was pointing at Rowan Edelman, whose parents were indeed muggles. Two of the boy's new friends were keeping him from just attacking the foolish pure-blood. No one was moving in the common room, an uneasy silence taking over. The two dozens or so of muggle-borns in Slytherins were throwing hard looks at Malfoy, but no one said anything.

Of course, Pansy Parkinson was inspired by her idol, and said more or less the same thing when she noticed she had been put in the same room as Leane.

Parkinson wasn't as lucky as Malfoy, and the other muggle-born female first year slapped her soundly. The idiot pure-blood lunged for Mary, forgetting that she had just said she didn't want to be less than three-feet-away from a “mudblood”. If no one did anything, this would be the beginning of a slytherin civil war, Dana was certain.

So the dimension-traveler acted.

Drawing on her past life, she caught Parkinson by the collar just in time, and kicked at the ankle of another girl who was about to join her in the fight. The two attackers almost fell, but Dana was holding Parkinson up, and her other arm caught the second girl, Tania Fawley, she believed.

“Now, girls, aren't we supposed to be friends?”

Pansy Parkinson sneered in disbelief, and Dana's face hardened. This one definitely couldn't tell she had been trying to sooth the situation, did she? She supposed she was in Slytherin because of her ambition, then, not because of her cunning... Though, if her ambition was to marry Malfoy...

“What do you know, Salvatore?! They shouldn't even be here, they're mudb--!”

Dana's grip on the girl's collar strengthened. Parkinson couldn't speak without hurting.

“Leane and Mary are muggle-borns, Parkinson. And they happen to be my friends. You don't like them, I don't like you. Now, you don't have to worry, because I don't think they want to share a dorm with you. Do you?”

The two girls looked disdainfully at Parkinson, and followed Dana, Daphne, and another girl to a room of the dormitories where they wouldn't have to see the prejudiced fools.

 


	3. Worth it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but I had my first sumer job this summer, and well... I was off schedule on all my fanfics, not only this one.

Alaric's alarm clock bipped quietly under his pillow, and the boy woke up instantly. He blinked when he took in his surroundings, still convinced he was in his room at home, but soon enough it all came back to him.

Hogwarts. It was the dormitories. He was at Hogwarts.

Somehow, the fact that he was here, an eleven years old boy, a young wizard, but still, so much more, to be truthful, and that despite everything he was here nonetheless... It had all gotten drowned off by the events of yesterday.

By Dana Salvatore.

By Damon Salvatore.

The shock it had been, to be reminded of this past that wasn't his, and yet was! It had erased his disbelief in being accepted as a student. But now that the first day had passed, Alaric could sense it again, this disbelief, this fear that he wasn't meant to be here. That he wasn't supposed to exist, too.

But it all made sense, in a way, now that he had regained the memories of Alaric Saltzman “the first”, if he dared to call his other self like that.

Damon had been a vampire, when he had died, and now he was human, because there was no such thing as immortality in this world. Vampires, here, sure weren't immortals. He knew that first hand.

Anyway.

Ric had been an Original when he had died. Maybe, even when his soul had been thrown out of the Other Side, and right into this world, the rules of the world hadn't been able to totally erase his nature. It had been... too strong. That's why Alaric Saltzman “the second” had been born, despite all that had happened during his mother's pregancy. That was the reason he was like he was now.

It didn't explain how Dana had gone from “Damon” to... well, to “Dana”. But Ric's theory had just come to the light, and he was certain he would find out, or at least have a guess, after some time. He had a whole life before him, after all. He'd understand what had happened for their two souls to have been reincarnated in this world.

And for that, he'd have to get close to Dana. He'd have to... observe her. And to determine if she knew more than she had let on.

But he couldn't let her think that was all he wanted. After all, she had been his best friend, in another life.

She. He. Well...

Alaric forced himself to get out of bed, and that the most silently possible. He didn't want the other boys to wake up, and ask him why he was up so early. And he really didn't want them to ask why his eyes were red, in case he had changed back during his sleep. It happened sometimes.

The boy tiptoed to their dormitory's bathroom, really happy that, at least, each room had one bathroom. Hogwarts was great, really. He had feared worse, such as one dormitory for the thirteen first year boys in Ravenclaw. Four in one room wasn't the best, but it wasn't as terrible as thirteen. There were less chances that someone would see what they weren't supposed to see.

No, Ric decided, considering this was a boarding school, it could have been way worse than that. And the beds were four poster ones, and charmed not to let the noise out, apparently. If something happened... The other boys wouldn't notice.

The boy closed the door to the bathroom behind him, and immediately turned to the mirror. He watched his reflection carefully, and sighed when he was sure his eyes were totally blue, like they were meant to be... But his relief was short, because his gaze fell on his chin, and a red smudge was half-erased on it.

Stopping himself from swearing one of the wonderfully numerous curse words he had remembered the day before, the boy hurried to wash his face. It was fortunate that no one had been up yet. He didn't know how he'd have explained that to the others, if he had had to.

Ric opened his mouth, and pushed his lips apart to get a look at his teeth. Just as he had surmised, he had ended up biting himself in his rest, possibly because of one of those nightmares he never remembered.

Alastair had said it would go away with puberty. Probably. It wasn't as if there were any others like Alaric out there. It wasn't as if they could tell how it would become in the future for him. There was no example of what he was, beside himself.

After all, he wasn't supposed to exist.

Between accidental bitting and his eyes, his first year was going to be so great...

But it would be worse if Dana had still been Damon, and they had ended up in the same dormitory. Because there was no way he'd have been able to hide that from a former vampire.

Ric took a shower, and he was getting dressed when one of the other boys tried to open the door to the bathroom. The handle moved a bit, and Alaric heard a voice outside, asking why it wasn't opening. Another voice answered for him.

“Alaric is already up, don't you see his curtains are open?”

“Oh right. Hey, Saltzman, don't take too long, 'kay?”

The boy rolled his eyes, and pushed the door open, his pajama on his left arm.

“I was up before you, Daniels. I think you are the one who needs to worry about not taking too long.”

The brown-haired boy on the other side of the previously closed door looked like hell, his hair sticking up in all directions, and his eyes still half-closed. Not an early riser, apparently. Though his voice sounded way too chearful to really go with his current looks.

“Whatever you say, Saltzman, whatever you say.”

And the boy, whose first name was possibly Joshua, though Ric couldn't say for sure, because the last night had been hectic, with the two other boys starting a pillow fight at ten, until a prefect came around and yelled at them, Joshua, so, pushed his way into the bathroom, while pulling Ric out of it. Before he could say anything, the door was closed, and Alaric stood outside the bathroom, staring at the closed door.

One of the other boys snorted, and went in search of his socks, that he swore had to be somewhere with his shirt, however they could have ended up there and wherever his shirt actually was. The other boy patted Ric on the shoulder, and gave him a sorry smile.

“Daniels is weird, isn't he?”

Alaric finally snapped out of it. He also observed his new interlocutor, and roommate, as he shrugged.

“Maybe. I don't know him enough yet.”

Jake Duncan was almost twelve, having been born at the beginning of the year, and he was almost one foot taller than Ric. The boy could possibly pass two meters when he's adult, if he went on like that, Alaric mused. Then again, Ric was eleven, and Jake was almost twelve. People grew up a lot at that age, he guessed. Maybe it was normal...

Still, Alaric didn't like to have to look up to see the boy's brown eyes. He was used to be taller than most, not the other way around. Especially now that he had his memories back... He wouldn't tell Dana that he had always felt good to be taller than Damon, of course. The feeling had been stupid, anyway. As if it mattered. As if the vampire hadn't been ten times stronger than him.

As if it reassured him, somehow.

Nah, he definitely wasn't going to tell that to Dana. She didn't need to know how foolish he could be.

Jake turned around, looking for a blue and bronze tie in his trunk.

“You know what is our first period?”

The fourth boy in their dormitory, Marius Monteith, spoke up from his own trunk, a pair of socks victoriously held in his raised hand.

“Professor Flitwick will give us the timetables during breakfast, my mom told me that.”

“Oh right, I thought I had missed some pieces of information last night... I was, ah, otherwise occupied at the time.”

“You mean you were stuffing your belly, right?”

Ten minutes later, Alaric was on his way down to the Great Hall, having left the other boys battling for the right to use the bathroom. He certainly wasn't feeling sorry he had to leave them.

Already in his first life, Alaric had been a bit of a loner, forced into a group of oddballs by circumstances. Before Mystic Falls and his surrogate family, he had never had many friends. One or two good friends, and nothing more. Leaving Duke, after Isobel's... death, hadn't been difficult; no one had been there to make him hesitate. And even in Mystic Falls, he hadn't had many friends.

Damon, mostly, and Jenna or Meredith. The others... They got along well, but that was it. He didn't really have friends, or these friends were tied to him in one way or another. Elena was his step-daughter, sort of, and the niece of the woman he loved; Jeremy was Jenna's nephew, so same thing here; Stefan was his best friend's brother, and Elena's boyfriend. And truthfully, that was all there was to say about his friendships.

It might have been why his students had liked him so much, in fact. He got on well with everyone, but he still was their teacher. Not too close, not too far away...

Ric didn't think another life would change it all.

When he reached the Great Hall, half the students were busy talking about, or, really, stalking, Harry Potter. It'd have been funny, if it wasn't borderline creepy. But, if anything, it kept their attention away from other possibly interesting people. The more attention they gave the Potter kid, the less Alaric was likely to attract. It made him feel a little bad for the Gryffindor boy to think like that, but well. It wasn't as if he had asked for Voldemort to murder the Potters and miss in doing the same with their son. Ric was simply using the current situation to his best interests.

Alaric took a light breakfast, and only waited for his Head of House to give him his timetable before he disappeared into another corridor. Having been up so early, he still had a two whole hours before his first class, Charms. And he didn't intend to spend it with his classmates.

Not that he was being asocial or anything.

Right, maybe a bit. A little bit. A tiny little bit.

But Ric had a reason for that, obviously. Many reasons, as a matter of fact. First of all being that he still had to deal with his new memories, and that simply wasn't just anything. Ten galleons his nightmares of the night were because of these memories.

Alaric eventually arrived before an old gargoyle. Only then did he notice he was lost. And considering the number of stairs he had taken... Well, he didn't even know on which floor he was. Great. Now he would be late for his first class, because he had gotten himself lost, not only in thoughts, but also in the castle. Perfect. Just the way to prove to the Headmaster that he hadn't made a mistake allowing him to come to Hogwarts. Who said life wasn't perfect?

The boy stayed about two minutes there, staring at the gargoyle as if it was responsible for all the things that had gone wrong in his life. In both his lives. No need to say, the gargoyle was responsible for a lot.

He really had no idea where he was, and the castle was so huge he'd just manage to get more lost if he chose a direction to go. He was sure of it. It had to end like that, because he was an unlucky freak. Who else could get a murderous alter-ego because they had died too many times?

Just when Ric decided he was definitely done for, the gargoyle rotated, and revealed a flight of steps. The boy froze at the sight, having the feeling it was something of an invitation, but from whom? He had no idea. After a few seconds, he regained control. He glanced one last time in the other directions, but there was definitely nothing to tell him where to go, and no one was here to direct him to his next class. So he hesitantly looked back at the stairs...

Now, if he had still been in the other world, with vampires and werewolves and witches everywhere around, he would certainly not go up there. Mystic Falls was pretty much like an horror movie, without the unrealistic side of the story. So if a flight of stairs appeared out of behind a rotating gargoyle, and no one was in sight, the best to do wasn't to go up. Usually, the ones who did it either found a slaughter, or someone ready to murder / body-hijack them.

Alaric knew what he was talking about, and he wasn't in the mood for either of those options.

Then again, this wasn't Mystic Falls. This wasn't the same world. There were vampires, werewolves and witches, but not the same kind. The dangers weren't the same, and there were very little chances that any of the things he was currently imagining would happen, even if he took the stairs. He was in a school, after all. And not just any school. Hogwarts.

He was safe.

He was going to be safe.

Right. Let's believe that. Ric took a deep breath, and went for the stairs. Whatever was up there, was waiting for him. And he'd be ready. Even if...

Yes, he was being paranoid. But with his history, he felt he had a right to be so.

His heart was beating faster and faster with each step he took.

And then he saw the end of the stairs. And then he walked up and enough to see the small room it lead to. And then he was high enough to see the open door at the back of the room. And then his feet weren't on stairs anymore, but on a plain stone floor.

Alaric hesitated there. Was he supposed to move past the door, and into that brightly lit room on the other side? Was someone waiting for him just inside?

...And what if he wasn't supposed to be here?

The boy was about to turn away, go back down the stairs, and try to find his way alone, when a figure shifted in the other room, beside the door. Someone was there alright.

But before Ric could properly panick, his eyes adjusted to the light contrast, and he recognized the person who now stood in the door frame.

He gulped, still unsure of the reason why he was there, and not... well, somewhere else. Somewhere he was supposed, meant to be, for example. The Great Hall, perhaps. Or the dormitories.

Certainly not outside the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore smiled genially at the nervous boy, before stepping back a bit to free the way.

“Mister Saltzman. I was waiting for you, but maybe not this early, I must say.”

Ric felt himself blush a bit at the statement. He indeed had an appointment with the Headmaster, but after his lessons, late this afternoon. To talk about... things.

So, to hide his embarassment, he found nothing better to do than to mumble his explanation under his breath.

“I got lost.”

The Headmaster arched an eyebrow, seemingly amused, and offered him a seat. Or, rather, he offered him to come into his office, and then take a seat. The two waiting chairs in the small room where the boy stood for now were apparently quite uncomfortable.

Or, that was what he had been told numerous times. The old wizard had not seen the need to test them out for himself, especially since they were supposedly uncomfortable.

“Do not worry about your classes, Alaric. You still have forty minutes to get to Professor Flitwick's lesson, and we do not need that much time to discuss what need to be adressed about your stay in this castle.”

Still as nervous as before, more so now that the Headmaster had mentionned his “problem”, the boy took a sharp breath and his courage into his hands, and walked in the office.

It was an... interesting room. Full of interesting... things. Silvery things. Books. Candies. And a phoenix. Let's not forget the phoenix.

Alaric eyed the phoenix distrustfully at first. He had yet to die by fire, but who knew? Maybe the mythical bird would be happy to take care of this lacking in his history.

Calm down, Ric, calm down. You're being paranoid, that's what it is.

Yeah, right. But even if he was paranoid, it didn't mean they weren't all after him.

He sat down, and looked the Headmaster right in the eyes, summoning the remaining bravery that, maybe, he had forgotten somewhere, in a dark recess of his mind. He felt like he'd need all his courage to say what he was going to say, to even adress the elephant in the room. And, maybe, someone else's nerve, too, because he didn't feel like his own would be enough.

“I wished to, to thank you for accepting me in school despite what I...”

The Headmaster raised a hand, and the boy stopped talking.

Dubledore's smile had not disappeared and the old man wasn't planning to let go of it. He could just tell the new student needed reassurance, and even if that was all he could give to him, he'd at least do that.

It certainly wasn't the boy's fault if he was what he was.

“No need to thank me, Alaric. You aren't the first one to have special... circumstances, shall we say, that I allowed in my school. It's rare, but I have made the same offer thrice already, for various reasons, and the two families who accepted it proved I was right. Children such as yourself can be normal, if only they decide to.”

Ric blinked. He hadn't realized he wasn't the only “case” the Headmaster had agreed to deal with, it seemed, he had never heard of anything... Though, it was a good thing, he guessed. It meant the secrets were kept both times. Maybe his secret would survive his school years, then.

“But, you've never had one like me, you don't know if...”

The Headmaster looked at him above his half-moon spectacles, and the boy stopped talking again.

“Do you wish to be removed from school, Mister Saltzman?”

“No!”

“Then you should not argue for it to happen.”

“But I don't know if I can...”

“Have some faith in yourself, will you? You seem to me to be a strong-willed individual, and you will be able to control it. Moreover, your circumstances are nowhere near the two others', from what your parents and your healer told me. You, at least, are partly human. You may have impulses, but you don't have needs. And impulses can be controlled with willpower, unlike physical needs.”

The old wizard smiled again, above his first, welcoming smile, a reassuring and warm one.

“You will be fine, Alaric Saltzman, as long as you believe so.”

It almost made the boy believe.

Almost.

If he had been the eleven years old he was supposed to be, it would certainly be enough. But facts were, he wasn't. Ric was eleven years old, but he was also thirty-four when he died in the other world... Did that make him fourty-five? Anyway, he wasn't as naive as he had once been, and certainly a lot more grown-up than all his classmates united.

And he had been through puberty once.

Speaking of which, he sure as hell hoped that he wouldn't have to deal with the whole pimples nightmare again.

So, unrepetant, he mumbled something about the effects of puberty on his unseen-before/yet-unknow physiology.

Obviously, it earned him a mildly surprised look from Dumbledore, who was starting to suspect he wasn't talking to an ordinary first year. Well, beside the obvious reason why they were talking in the first place, which made him the very contrary of an ordinary student anyway.

Still, he wouldn't push the boy to open up, as long as it didn't put anyone in danger.

“Now that we settled this, let us talk about the extras. I have been told you can control your eye color well enough, and as long as no one sees it change for more than an instant, they will chalk it up to a light trick. I don't believe you need any kind of special diet, do you?”

Alaric had slightly, erm, melted in his seat as the conversation had turned to his “extras”, and he surely didn't look like he wanted do talk about it. But well, it had to be done, right?

Obviously, the boy was looking anywhere but at the Headmaster as he answered.

“No, I don't 'need' it. But if I'm under strong emotions, or if I'm subjected to its scent, I can have... urges. My mom sends me lollipops to keep it under wraps, though.”

“Good, good. Anything else?”

“I... If I'm injured, I will heal instantly if I take... well, that. And I still heal faster than a normal human even without, so...”

The Headmaster appeared thoughtful for a time, but said nothing right away. Finally he locked eyes with the first year ravenclaw again, and nodded.

“I'll ask Madam Pomfrey to take you apart, in a secluded area, if anything were to happen. No need to lose time with human treatments if we can make the pain go away this easily, but we'd still have to keep up the charade for your classmates. Obviously only the staff and professors know about your condition, and I would rather we kept it that way.”

There was a silence, but the Headmaster broke it soon after that by offering Alaric a lemon drop. The boy refused, confused, and the old wizard shrugged.

“Pity. And, to get to your class, turn left after you leave the staircase, and ask the second portrait on the left for directions. The dear Mathilda loves nothing more than to help lost students back on the right tracks.”

Ric felt his face heat up, and almost ran out of the office of embarassment. A quick “thankyou” and a quicker “goodbyesir” later, he was asking said portrait, still as red as a peony, how to get to Flitwick's classroom. The young woman in the painting almost cooed all over him, but gave him the direction alright, even going ahead of him to show him the way.

He arrived just in time to see the very small professor open the door to his classroom, and invite his first students of the year inside. Joshua Daniels, his roomate, grinned at him, a questionning look in his eyes. Ric smiled a bit in response, but totally ignored his questionning look. He couldn't explain why he had almost been late for the first lesson of the year to the boy, anyway.

The class was ravenclaw-only, it seemed, and so there were thirteen boys and fourteen girls sitting unevenly around the big classroom, who could apparenly fit twice that number of students. Alaric glanced at his timetable under his sheet of parchment. He hadn't taken a very good look at it during breakfast, as he had wanted to get away from the others quickly. And indeed, he saw that some of his classes were shared with others Houses, but not all of them. Apparently he'd have Flying and History of Magic with the Hufflepuffs, Defense against the Dark Arts and Herbology with the Slytherins, and Astronomy with the Gryffindors. Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions would be all-eagle classes.

Alaric wasn't sure yet which way would be better. He could see the good points of joined lessons, as he had been a teacher in another life, but he really wondered how it would be to have such a difference between his classes. Oh well, he'd have to see, didn't he?

So, Charms.

Ric had to say, despite his... strangeness, Flitwick was a good teacher. Sure, for now, they had only started the theory, but still. He understood easily with Flitwick's explanations. And yes, it wasn't always the case for the other students, he realized that, but what could he do about it? If not more intelligent, he was certainly more mature. He was some strange mix of his two selves, child and adult at the same time, and had less issues focusing on the classes, instead of on what his classmates were whispering next table.

But it could also be because he was a diligent student, too.

Alaric wasn't really sure how the whole two-memories-thing operated. So he couldn't really tell how it influenced his life. He still felt like a kid... or as much as he had ever felt like a kid, anyway.

One day he'd have to ask Dana how she was dealing with it.

Joshua, who had sat right next to him at the beginning of the hour, sighed deeply as Flitwick started to explain the various sorts of spells that existed, from curses to charms to jinxes and back to transfiguration and hexes, and why charms differed greatly from the others and...

Ric only glanced quickly at the boy, but said boy caught his glance.

“That's it, I'm lost.”

Alaric blinked at his notes, and then at Daniels'.

“Maybe if you started taking notes...”

The brown-haired boy looked at him as if he was crazy, and whined a bit.

“He's going too fast!”

“Sure. And the fact that you don't have your quill has nothing to do with it.”

Daniels squinted two grey eyes at his classmate, and didn't answer, settling instead on staring at him until Alaric felt compelled to be the one to look away. He had to takes his notes, anyway.

For the next lesson, Potions, Daniels' quill had miraculously reappeared, and the brown-haired boy did not look away from his parchment except to stare at the teacher, Professor Snape, whom Ric immediately disliked. Still, having been himself in the teaching shoes, he kept his first impression to himself. Maybe it was just a bad day for the man.

Strangely enough, Daniels was actually useful during that class, because even though Snape seemed to agree with Ric about disliking each other, the older wizard did his best not to look at the pair. Apparently Alaric wasn't the only one to be unnerved by his classmate's stare.

For that reason, the blond couldn't say no when, during lunch break, his new and self-proclaimed friend asked for his Charms notes.

Well, that reason, and the fact that Ric was eager to leave the Great Hall, and Daniels wouldn't have let him.

The thing was, when he had seen Dana arrive in the Great Hall with three other girls from Slytherin, his stomach had made a looping that Ric was pretty sure wasn't meant to happen to anyone's stomach. It just didn't work with anatomy, you know?

He wasn't sure why exactly, maybe it had to do with the fact he had managed to put aside his struggling memories for the whole duration of the morning, but just seeing Dana had brought it all back to the front of his mind. And Alaric really wasn't willing to explore his secret identity right now. He even felt it would give him a headache, and he did not want to go to History of Magic with a headache. Especially considering two hours of Defense Against the Dark Arts came right after that...

And the Ravenclaws had that class with the Slytherins. In other word, no avoiding the girl-who-used-to-be-a-guy-but-wasn't-a-trans. And no avoiding the headache. But if he could keep it away for two more hours, just two little hours... He'd take it.

So Ric wolfed down his lunch, and tried to disappear from the Great Hall as soon as it wouldn't be too suspicious. Joshua Daniels, who had decided he wouldn't leave him alone, apparently, let him go once he gave him his Charms notes, but he had a shrewd look on his face, and Alaric didn't like it... But he was too busy getting away from Dana's gaze “without meaning it, I swear” to care about it right now.

As for Dana, she was halfway through her lunch when her eyes landed on the back of a very familiar boy, at the Ravenclaw table. The boy, not the back, of course. Alaric was familiar to her, in an odd way, true, but familiar nonetheless, but seeing him as an eleven years old boy was still unsettling.

Not stranger than getting the fact that she used to be a boy in her head, though.

For a second, the girl stopped eating, and just stared at her best friend's back. She wondered if they would be best friends too, in this life, or if they would just live next to one another without really bothering to contemplate their old lives. Her chest ached a bit at that idea, and she wondered if Ric would even want to be her friend again. She and Damon were very different, even if deep down, they were the same. First of all being their gender...

And well, everything had gone greatly the day before, but Ric hadn't been in the Great Hall when she had come down for breakfast, and she hadn't seen him after that. Even now, he was turning his back on her, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was deliberate or not.

If they had been in the same House, he wouldn't have so many excuses not to cross paths with her...

But hey, she smirked on her mouthful of meat, making Goyle shudder three seats away, they had Defense Against the Dark Arts together, for two whole hours, just after her Transfiguration class. There she would make sure to sit next to him, and then...

If Ric ignored her again, she'd stomp her shoe down on his foot.

Dana reached for a dessert, but four students rose from the ravenclaw table, and Alaric was amongst them, keeping his head down, as if he didn't want to risk an eye-to-eye contact with someone. Let's say, someone with ink-black hair and ice-blue eyes.

Dana squinted harshly at the retreating boy, mirroring without meaning to the look on another Ravenclaw's face, a first year with brown hair and grey eyes.

Leane looked up from her plate, and followed Dana's squint to the table of the eagles.

“You're alright?”

“Yup.”

Dana grabbed a pastry, eyes still locked on the blond boy, and stood up at the same time. The pastry found its way to her mouth without her even looking at it once, while the girl seized her bag from under the table. She chewed two more times, gulped the dessert down, and stiffened...

...Before breaking into a half-run, her pace having nothing to envy to a military march's.

Back at the Slytherins' table, Leane and Daphne shared a surprised look, before glaring together at Malfoy, who had no idea as to what he had done to deserve it this time. It didn't matter, the two girls reasoned, there surely was a reason for them to berate him silently. He was enough of a douche for it to be true.

Dana did not find Alaric during the lunch break, and it pissed her off. She wasn't sure where he had disappeared to, but it was obvious he had done so on purpose.

She didn't want Alaric to avoid her. Especially not when she remembered the other times he had been angry at Damon. That time when the vampire had ruined Ric's life... The two times he had killed him... And the very fact that they were becoming friends, hell, best friends, despite all that.

And Damon had wondered why he couldn't seem to keep a friend? It was pretty obvious to Dana, but maybe it was because unlike her other identity, she wasn't a bitter and murderous bastard.

Alright, first thing first, to convince Ric that she wasn't going to become a monster like Damon had the first time around. To convince him that if he agreed to be her friend again, he wouldn't befriend a serial killer. Again. To convince her friend that she was worth it.

The memories went back and forth in her mind, as Dana laid on the grass near the Black Lake, having given up on searching for Alaric after half an hour. She still had a few minutes left before her next class... And she had many years to catch on, if she wanted to remember her other past.

The young witch winced a bit as she remembered the sound of a snapped neck on a lawn.

Damn, she had been a shitty friend.

Then came the time to go back to class, and Dana got on her feet, wondering how Transfiguration would be like. Her mother had told her her father had aced his exams on this subject. Then again her father had apparently aced on many subjects, and the others he had passed with great results too. When you listened to Alba, her unnamed husband was a star in her life, perfect on most aspects, even if far away and cold from where she stood on earth.

Just before Dana walked back inside the castle, her eyes wandered up, and up, and up... And there her eyes met with another pair, on the second floor, that were looking right back at her. The girl took a step back, and yes, she recognized Alaric's blond hair immediately, even if he was a bit too high up for her to be sure about his features. He was standing against a stone railing, just up there, and looking at her.

Watching her, possibly.

And from the look on his face, he hadn't counted on her looking up and spotting him.

Dana scowled at the boy, and went straight to Transfiguration. No, really, he had avoided her and stalked her from above all along? You couldn't do both, seriously! Couldn't he make his choice, coming to her or staying away, really?

Dana was particularly impressed by McGonagall's animagus form, even if she was starting to be fed up with theory, and was impatient for them to do actual magic. Which, apparently, wouldn't happen anytime soon. All the professors she had seen so far seemed to agree on at least one thing: the first years would have to work on the theory for a long time, from one week to one month depending on the affinities with the subject, before they could even begin to think about actually using their wands.

A decision that Dana ended up seconding, even if it wasn't for her pleasure, when Crabbe decided he didn't need all that crap theory and started waving his wand wildly at Goyle. For some reason, idiot number two ended up with his nose as long as an eel, and blue.

If Dana had learned one thing that day, it was that the professor McGonagall wasn't to be crossed, and you didn't play around in her classroom. Crabbe learned that too, but for all the girl knew, his fish brain had already forgotten about it.

Oh, and obviously, there was another thing the young witch had found out that day: her Head of House was a jerk.

Snape had even eyed her evilly in the middle of the lesson, even though she was in his House and he didn't usually do that to his own students, even if that didn't stop him from acting like that with the Gryffindors, especially Harry Potter. Then again, maybe it was because Dana had been sitting right behind the boy, and the glare hadn't been destined to her?

Somehow, she doubted it was the explanation...

But all that exited her brain as soon as she spotted Ric, waiting for their common class.

 


	4. Noah's Ark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This story unexpectedly became a multi-crossover, I'm afraid. Fear not, Alaric and Dana still are the main focus. But I had to case in a few more Hogwarts AU, you know, instead of writing three hundreds other crossovers. There will be 16 (canon-wise dead) characters out of other stories, all in all.
> 
> I might have made this story into a mostly killers AU, now that I think about it...
> 
> And, yes, sue me if you don't agree, but I watched ASH: Hotel for Matt Bomer only, and yes, I do like John Lowe.

Alaric looked away as soon as he spotted Dana in the corridor. If he was lucky, she hadn't even realized he had been looking at her a moment before that.

It wasn't as if he had been looking for her, anyway.

For a moment he feared that the girl would reach out before the beginning of class. When she didn't, he guessed Dana had no reason to. They may have known each other in another life, but that was it, wasn't it? They had no friends, no family in common. They weren't even part of the same House. For all he knew, Dana had no interest in repeating the errors of lives past.

Even back then, Alaric Saltzman's and Damon Salvatore's friendship had not been an usual one. They had gotten to know each other through the alleged murder of his wife Isobel. They had started by playing / hating the other. They had not become friends because of their personalities, far from it. They had become friends because, in the end, they were the only ones who cared enough about who the other one truly was, under the lies, under the masks.

Here, in this world, they didn't need any of this. _Ergo_ , they didn't have a reason to care.

The professor of Defense against the Dark Arts opened the door to the classroom, and Ric moved to the front row, on the left side of the class. Not right in front of the teacher, even out of sight most of the time, but not in the too-noticeable back row either. A place where he was usually left alone...

If not for Joshua.

Alaric would have sighed loudly, if it hadn't made his displeasure a bit too obvious. Say what you want, Alaric Saltzman had always been someone polite, as long as his interlocutor wasn't threatening someone else. Or, you know, as long as the other one hadn't presumably murdered his wife.

Good point, he wasn't married yet. Hence, no one fit in that category. Yet.

Ric looked up, and yeah, Daniels was still there, his bag on the desk, but not sitting. Weird. The boy should have have more than enough time to settle down. Why wasn't he...?

Alaric unlocked his brain to the rest of the scene, and soon enough he caught on. Joshua wasn't sitting next to him, because standing right before the boy, there was a slytherin girl. A girl who was glaring, hard, at the ravenclaw boy.

Dana didn't even look at Ric, no, she had her eyes locked on the mousy haired boy next to her fellow worlds-traveller. Grey eyes, a small scar under the left eye. She had a feeling she should remember him for the future.

As soon as the boy broke their staring contest, and tried to move towards the chair, the girl spoke.

“Scram.”

It wasn't especially menacing or anything, but she sounded so sure of herself, so certain of her right to send him somewhere else, that Daniels only glanced one last time at Alaric. Then he shrugged, got a hold of his schoolbag, and moved to the other side of the classroom, to sit next to a ravenclaw girl with blond hair and green eyes.

Dana was a bit surprised by the unfazed reaction of the boy, but she didn't let it affect her in any way. She had better things to consider. One of which was named Alaric Saltzman, and had been ignoring her for the past hours. Damon wouldn't have let that slide by. Dana wasn't going to either.

She sat down, and waited for the lesson to start, eyes side-locked on her former friend. She intended to pay attention to Professor Quirrell, of course, but Ric mattered more.

About a quarter of an hour went by like that. Dana spied on Alaric, Alaric feigned to be deeply absorbed in his notes, and Quirrell stuttered as he was supposed to be. Truth to be told, Ric had no need to stare so intently at his notes, but it just so happened that if he looked up and turned around to watch the teacher when there was nothing to write, the first thing he'd see would be Dana's face.

It wasn't really that he didn't want to talk to her. It was just that, perhaps, it'd be for the better if they kept away from each other. Maybe, they wouldn't be caught into problematic events if they did so.

On the other hand, Dana didn't seem to share his point of view. If she had, she'd certainly wouldn't be sitting right next to him. It simply wouldn't be logical.

And, apparently, the girl was getting pissed off by his choice to ignore her. Because just as he was writing a nice “nature” in his notes, Alaric's leg was hit by Dana's foot in a totally unasked-for manner. His quill ended its line somewhere in the sky above the “t”, and Ric winced. Why did wizards continue to use quills, anyway? Because, yes, they were not simple, usual muggle quills, and had been spelled to be almost as efficient as a pen, but still. A pen didn't need an inkpot.

And that's what they called deflecting. Not good. Not good at all, if the second kick in his leg was anything to go by. Damon had never appreciated being ignored, and Dana sure didn't disappoint.

“Stop that already.”

The girl only gave him a look, and hissed back.

“Then you look at me, Ric, or I'll do it again.”

The boy was looking at her, right now, but she still kicked him once more, to emphasize.

“And again. And again. And...”

“I got it!”

“Good. Now, why don't you stop ignoring me?”

There was a lot of noise at the back of the classroom, and both kids forgot about their argument the time to turn around and get a look at what had just happened. They weren't disappointed.

The boy sitting next to Draco Malfoy had apparently gotten fed up with the idiot, because right now the blond pure-blood had his nose on the floor, his chair lying on its side behind him. Quirrell hurried to the incident, passing by Alaric on the way. Oddly, it made the ravenclaw boy shudder a bit. As if there was something not quite right with the man.

“Mis-mister Malfoy, a-a-are you alri-i-ight? Miste-e-er Gro-oves, what happe-pened?”

Dana squinted at the other Slytherin boy, one she hadn't yet met other than because they had been sitting at the same table for meals. If she wasn't wrong, he was one of the rare muggle-borns in Slytherin. He was slim, not very impressive or anything, then again, they were eleven years old, so perhaps it wasn't the best time to think about that. Brown hair and eyes, smooth features, somewhere between feminine and masculine.

And, most importantly, a wicked and vindictive glint in his eyes.

Groves gave the teacher two wide and innocent eyes, which made Dana snort.

“He was tilting back his chair, Professor! I told him he was going to fall down, I did, but Draco didn't listen!”

Quirrell looked confused for an instant, and did not notice the fact that Malfoy was trying to protest, but another boy in their House, pretending to help him up, was mostly stopping him from mouthing off. Dark hair combed back, striking blue eyes, a slightly arrogant attitude, but nothing Dana had never done herself. Donovan Lowe, she believed.

Their year was definitely proving to be interesting.

The disturbance eventually died down, and Dana went back to her main problem. As soon as Quirrell was back to stuttering their first lesson, she turned to Alaric, whom she caught frowning at Lowe.

“Something wrong?”

The blond boy shook his head, and looked back at her. Dana could tell he hadn't chased whatever had been disturbing him out of his head. But she really needed to talk to him, and he'd have more time to think about whatever that was, later.

“Now, Ric, about us: why are you ignoring me anyway?”

He looked at her as if he was astonished she even asked. Dana, personally, didn't see why her question was that strange. They were the only ones who truly knew who the other really was. It only made sense that they'd want to stick together. Didn't it?

Alaric didn't seem to think so, on the other hand.

“Do you really want to start our 'friendship' again, Dana? Do I have to remind you why we were friends, in the first place? The deaths, the blood, the betrayals, everything?”

Quirrell walked past them, and they stopping talking for a moment. Dana couldn't help but notice how Ric tensed as the professor passed by. She didn't have time to wonder about it, though. As soon as the teacher was out of hearing reach, Alaric hissed back the rest of his impression.

“I'd think we'd want to start again, without all that! We've got another life, we can't just linger on our past one. And the best way to do that is not to talk to each other only because we were uneasy friends once upon a time.”

“Bullshit. I want to be your friend because I appreciated you, not because I'm nostalgic about our old lives, Ric.”

“Are you sure of that?”

He really didn't seem to believe her, Dana finally understood. Perhaps he was even doubting anyone would want him as a friend. As she recalled, Alaric Saltzman had never had that many friends. Most had become close to him because of circumstances, not because of mutual appreciation.

Except Jenna. And Jenna had died.

As had Isobel. And, later on, Meredith had almost died by his hand too.

No wonder Ric was being cautious about his friendships.

Dana wasn't going to let that happen to her, that she could promise. And she wasn't going to let her best friend lock himself away either. Really, he was in a boarding school with a few hundreds of other kids. At one point or another, he'd have to open up.

She was decided to be the first one on that list of future friends.

“We can't know until we try, can we?”

Alaric stared at her, visibly unimpressed. She gave him a blinding smile. He sighed.

“You're going to be stubborn about that, aren't you?”

“I'm aways right, Ric.”

“Or so you think...”

He turned back to his notes, but Dana could see a small smile on his lips. She counted that as a victory. And anyway, she'd stalk him out of class, until dinner. He wouldn't be able to ignore her for long if she stayed around.

The class ended without further incidents. Interesting things actually waited for them to be out of the classroom before happening. Maybe Dana loved chaos a bit too much.

The two travelers walked out only to hear Malfoy sickeningly mimicking Quirrell's stutter. Dana, who might have been about to do the exact same thing, suddenly decided she had better things to do, if the idiot was doing it already. Crabbe and Goyle snickered dumbly behind their gang leader.

Then Donovan Lowe, who had been right behind the bleached blonde, grabbed Malfoy by his collar. The pure-blood missed a step, and almost finished on the floor, again. Groves helpfully kept him standing after sharing a look with Lowe. These two didn't seem to actually know each other, but they were weirdly on the same wavelenght.

Crabbe and Goyle, suddenly remembering what had happened earlier, growled at the two other slytherin boys. Lowe and Groves didn't look particularly impressed.

Malfoy tried to say something, probably along the lines of “My father will hear about it”, because apparently, it was the best threat he had under his sleeve.

Lowe practically snarled at him.

“I don't care about your point of view on many things, Malfoy. You can be a bigoted racist for all I care. But what I care about, is that you are being loud about it. And I'd really, really like you to be completely silent about whatever you think your ancestry allows you to do, when I'm around. Loud people like you are pathetic, and exasperating.”

“And what are you going to do about it?!”

Something cold flashed in Donovan Lowe's eyes, which made Dana recoil, as if she knew that look a bit too intimately. Alaric was right, there was something about the boy – and about Groves, too, as it was. Dana was fairly certain they weren't from their past life, because she'd remember the two, even if as adults. She'd recognize them.

Then again, there could have been others sucked in by the end of the Other Side. Other ghosts she knew nothing about.

This time it was Groves who answered, with a sickeningly smooth smile.

“That, you really don't want to know, Malfoy.”

The pure-blood glared at the muggle-born boy.

“I didn't speak to you, Mudblood...”

Groves didn't particularly seem fazed by the insult, even if a few people took a step back. Even those who thought just the same but had more than half a brain didn't stay too close to Malfoy. There was a big difference between thinking such things and saying them.

“Please, call me Root.”

Someone coughed in the corridor, behind the small group of first years, and Lowe let go of Malfoy. Dana's and Alaric's eyes immediately moved to the two fourth years Gryffindors standing there. They were so much taller, with their three years difference, than the rest of them that they wondered how they hadn't noticed them before.

One of them had black hair parted on the left, blue eyes, naturally frowny eyebrows, and if Dana remembered anything from her life as Damon, it was that his stance, while seemingly relaxed, in reality spelled danger.

The other wasn't more reassuring, in a way, with his calm blue eyes bordering on grey, and his surprisingly silver hair. He was the tallest of the two, with a posture definitely taken from a military man, which was totally weird considering he was only fourteen or so. Alaric could say he was the kind of guy whom you did not want to anger, because then, all hell broke loose.

And, more importantly, these two felt just like Donovan and Groves – sorry, “Root”. What kind of nickname was that, by the way?

The first one smiled at Lowe, amused.

“Donovan, be nice, please. I don't want my next letter to Wren to be about how you got a detention on your first day. And I certainly don't want to have to clean up behind you if you break his nose.”

Donovan glanced coldly at Malfoy.

“Who says you'd find anything to clean up, Lowe?”

That, Ric decided, was totally ominous, and definitely weird. The two were probably brothers, but who called their older brother by their family name? It was like they were family, but weren't used to it. Or, perhaps, yes, used to being family, but with the distinct feeling that they shouldn't be.

A bit, he realized, as he now felt about his parents in this world.

The tallest fourth year rolled his eyes, and shooed the first years away.

“Nothing to see here, kids. And, Malfoy, you'd better scram. You wouldn't want your father to know how you got your shame handed to you by a muggle-born, would you?”

Dana and Alaric shared a look, and made to walk away. After all, whatever the issues between all these people, it wasn't their business. Even if, an insidious voice in Ric's head whispered, it definitely looked like they weren't the only ones in this strange situation of having a second chance at life. He wondered if they were all from their world too, or if, perhaps, they came from another place altogether.

But “Lowe” the older stopped them with his right arm.

“Except you. Donovan, Samuel Groves, Alaric Saltzman and Dana Salvatore. We'd like a word with you, John and I.”

Donovan groaned, Dana wasn't sure why. Groves muttered something about preferring “Root”, and “John” looked at him with a sarcastic grin that totally made him crankier. Alaric was a bit wary of this, but at the same time very curious; everything seemed to go with his theory; and it looked like the two fourth years knew too.

They waited for all the others first years to scatter.

Then “John” checked that Quirrell had indeed left the classroom too, and ushered them all back in. The first years in this odd group looked at each other, Dana shrugged, and eventually they let the older boys decide. From the looks they were giving each other, they were suspecting something too, but unwilling to speak first.

It was the older Lowe who spoke first. Or, rather, he handed them black cards with golden words on it. Alaric took his cautiously, ready to inspect and at the same time to drop it should it burst into flames for one reason or another. His experience with magic, in both worlds, did imply caution.

It was an invitation to a “Twice Over Society” club, that reunited every friday evening.

The name was ambiguously implying things, he thought. Ric squinted at the older boys.

“Twie Over Society?”

Lowe shrugged, a small grin at the corner of his mouth.

“We'd have called it Dead Men Club, but John thought it wouldn't be fair to the ladies, not that there were any when we started it. And it might have been a bit suspicious, too.”

John snorted at that.

“Sure. Let's call it something as ominous as Dead Men Club, John. McGonagall would have had us checked for mental illnesses. Of course, Twice Over Society didn't stop the Headmaster from figuring it all out in less than two months. But if some other people are suspicious of the name TOSS, at least they don't have the right kind of suspicions.”

Dana blinked, insure of who was “John” in the duo. Then she realized they probably shared the first name. John was a fairly common name; besides, she already liked these two better than Mystic Falls' John.

Groves was the one to point out the obvious, when Alaric was trying to figure it out all on his own, Donovan was probably already in the known due to his older brother's implication, and Dana didn't seem to notice the problem.

“Are we actually saying we are all coming from other worlds, different stories, but that for some reason, dying propelled us here instead of putting the lights out?”

The tallest of the Gryffindors smirked lightly at the slytherin boy.

“Exactly, Root. And let me say how surprised I am to see you... well, like that. Last time we saw each other, if I remember well, you were a woman.”

This got a surprised shout out of Dana, who stared at Samuel Groves in delight.

“So I'm not the only once who got all mixed up?!”

There was a silence after that, that they spent observing each other a bit blandly. Alaric, on his part, didn't really know what to say at this point. It all seemed a bit too much, frankly. Like, who woke up one day, after their death, to end up in an alternate world with magic schools and a bunch of not-dead-either people from yet another – others? – world?

He did, apparently.

Finally the older Lowe sighed, and took over the lack of conversation.

“Alright, let's move on. We've made that club, John and I, because we found we did need help adjusting once we regained our memories. Especially as said memories weren't all that pleasant. We've got issues, and from what I know of the others, you certainly have issues too. There are a bunch of us, namely, Jocelyn Carter and Gabrielle Shurley, third year Hufflepuffs, James Norrington, second year Ravenclaw, Alexia Branson and Joanna Harvelle, Gryffindors, aside from us. For now, you may feel like you will be alright dealing with this on your own, but believe me it won't last, especially not once puberty gets there. And it's always nice to have someone to talk to.”

The other John added, face serious:

“I'm John Rykes, but you can call me Reese. John's the only one who calls me by my first name, as I'm the only only who calls him by his first name, for obvious reasons. It's not like we could get confused about which one of us we're talking to. He's John Lowe, Donovan's... well, in this world, Donovan's older brother. If you need to talk before friday, we're here. But we'll introduce everyone properly at the end of the week.”

Alaric really wondered what a proper introduction entailed, in the club they were apparently default members of. Lowe had mentionned issues, which made the blond boy wonder if they all had the same kind of murderous, or at least deadly, issues. Were they supposed to come over and say, Hi, my name is Alaric Saltzman, and a ghost whispered in my ear one too many times, causing me to go crazy and try to murder my friends after I was turned into an Original Vampire? Or, more importantly, was he supposed to talk about his current problem, since it obviously was a remnant of his past life?

One thing was certain: he wouldn't be the one to speak first, friday night. He'd decide what to say based on how much the others would say.

This, Ric thought as they left the abandoned classroom in a daze, was total madness.

He was about to go back to Ravenclaw Tower when Dana grabbed one of his sleeves, effectively keeping him from leaving. Ric arched an eyebrow at her, noticed that Groves and Rykes were going their own way, probably to speak of things from their other life. It made him remember Dana's insistence that they started their friendship again.

The girl grinned at him with pearly teeth.

“Do you want to go to the library, and see what vampires really are in this world?”

Ric tried to give her a disbelieving glare, but she was proud of her idea, and, he guessed, he had no valid reason to refuse. Even if he probably knew all there was to know about vampires in this reality already. It wasn't as if his mother's physician had been a vampire, was it?

Vampires here were surprisingly good healers.

“Oh, come on, Ric! I want to know the differences between our previous selves and this world's vampires! Like, if they are basically the same, which I doubt, considering there isn't anything like partial immortality here, or if they're, I don't know, more like Dracula?”

“I can answer that, actually: Bram Stockher created him after meeting with the vampire Vlad Drakul, father of Vlad the Impaler. It's more than probable that most of the traits, though not all of them, displayed in the book are accurate.”

Dana gave him a look that clearly said she wasn't certain if she should be impressed or frightened by his random knowledge of wizarding-muggle interculture.

“Didn't you want to go to the library?”

“Right. Come on, Ric.”

And she took his arm in a death grip to be sure he wouldn't escape until they were in the Hogwarts Library. Alaric supposed it had to happen one day, so why not now? Though he'd rather it be later than sooner, it had to happen. Now that Dana had brought it up... It would have been only a matter of time, had he tried to delay the visit to the library.

Dana had to let go of Ric's arm when they reached the library, but she did glare at him to behave, which meant, in this case, to do exactly what she wanted him to do.

Madam Pince, the librarian, observed them sharply as Dana asked where to find books about vampires. She didn't seem to appreciate that children researched the dreaded species for what looked like fun. Then again, Alaric kept an eye on her after that, just in case she tried to give them a heart attack for one reason or another, and she gave the same distrustful look to a fifth year who needed info on minor hexes and their limited uses.

He saw Dana gesturing to him to follow her, and he guessed she had found what she wanted.

But when Ric joined her, the books Madam Pince had told them about weren't there. There was a big hole in the row of books, four volumes missing. Dana didn't look particularly frustrated for all that.

In fact she was grinning like a fool, and pointing at a slytherin first year boy at a nearby table, who, as it was, had the books she was looking for.

“Guess who it is?”

Ric focused on the dark hair combed back, and yes, he had to admit, the boy was familiar... Probably because he had just left them a few minutes ago. He had probably arrived at the library while Dana was trying to convince him to come.

Dana who, not willing to wait for Ric to figure it out, had just gone to the boy.

“Donovan?”

The boy started, and closed the book he was reading in a jerked move, putting its title against the wood of the table, as if he didn't want them to see what he was looking at. Which, as they had noticed the missing books first, had little to no results except telling them he had a dubious interest in vampire lore. Not that he could have guessed that.

He turned slowly to look at Dana, before spotting Alaric, and squinted.

“Salvatore. Saltzman.”

Dana squinted back at him, as if to make a point. Ric wasn't sure what point, however.

“Lowe.”

He winced, and relaxed a bit at the same moment.

“Don't call me that, keep it for my brother. You'll see the necessity soon enough, once you'll have stumbled on the two of them a few times. Donovan is fine.”

“Then call us Dana and Alaric... or Ric, for that matter. You're interested in vampires?”

Donovan kept his answer short and elusive.

“There were some beings very close to the legend of vampires, from where Lowe, Wren and I come from, even if we called them afflicted.”

Alaric's interest immediately perked up. He took a chair next to the slytherin boy, and whispered another question not to be noticed by the watchful ear of the resident librarian.

“You had magic too, in your former world?”

Donovan pulled a face, probably remembering some unsavory moments.

“Yes, but nothing as developed as here. From what Lowe told me, there are like five other worlds he knows of, and four had a supernatural side. Ours, which borders on the basic horror story hidden to most of the population, Alexia's, which is more or less the same but perhaps a bit less chaotic, Reese's, which has no magic at all but went all sci-fi on them with artificial intelligences, Gabrielle's, which is another can of shit on a biblical level entirely, and James', a world of legends from another time. We're a bit like Noah's Ark for the desperate cases.”

“Why vampires in particular?”

Donovan didn't look like he was going to answer that question, and Alaric almost dropped it, when the other boy sighed, checked their empty surroundings, and relented.

“Look, if you're here like us, there's a 80% chance you've done some bad shit in your time because life turned on you or another reason. Lowe, me, Reese or the others, we're not bad guys, but some things we did... They don't land us in the good guys category either.”

Alaric and Dana shared a look that Donovan had no difficulty deciphering. His words hit a chord for them too. They probably had blood on their hands, and not just a little. Whether it was for a good or a bad reason didn't really matter.

Perhaps it was what decided him to confess.

“Me and Wren... That's my little sister, Wren, in this world at least – we were afflicted. I lived about twenty years festing on the blood of others, because I really didn't care about life, myself, or anything else than Elizabeth, and I didn't even care enough to want to die. Wren stayed like that even longer, and she was just a little girl.”

“Just you and your sister? Not your brother?”

Donovan didn't react right away, still a bit surprised by Dana's acceptance of his avowal. He couldn't know how close his words had been to describing Damon Salvatore's life over Katherine.

Speaking of John Lowe, on the other hand, almost made him chortle.

“My brother is another kind of problem altogether, but you'll hear all that friday, if you come. The only thing you have to remember is that, all in all, you never did anything bad in this life, and if you had issues because of something in your past, like Lowe, it's behind you. Sure, you're not the same as the other children here, but you're still an innocent kid. Like you were before everything happened the first time around.”

Alaric smiled bitterly at that, unsure if he could really agree with that. Perhaps not in his own case...

“I guess the point is not to make the same mistakes as that first time...”

Dana put a hand on Ric's shoulder. Then she said, so seriously that Donovan wondered at first if she was joking:

“Don't worry, Alaric, I won't kill, or, you know, really, turn your wife into a vampire this time. Which probably should prevent you from becoming a murderous psycho vampire.”

The look the blond boy gave her was dry if anything.

“I certainly hope you won't sleep with my wife either.”

Dana squinted at nothing in particular, thoughtful.

“I don't think women will be my thing, this time. Damon Salvatore's, yes, but not Dana's.”

Donovan interrupted, discreetly not to get thrown out of the library by Madam Pince, who seemed a bit too interested in their group for his comfort of mind.

“Wait, you two were vampires in your world?”

Dana winced a bit, suddenly realizing the huge issue that had been introduced during the Gryffindors' welcome speech. Her mind had been on more important things at the time, but now that she thought about it... She surely hoped Damon's past sins really were past.

“And now that I think about it, I'm the one who killed Lexi... Alexia Branson. This is so going to be a pleasant reunion, friday evening. But, while we're at it, I do want to point out that Ric was first a vampire hunter, all the way with the stakes and everything. He wanted me dead very badly, and look at us now! Besties even in the afterlife! Lexi might forgive me too... Right?”

Alaric snorted a laugh.

“I'll go to your funeral, don't worry.”

“Thanks for the support, man. Now, why don't we have a look at the vampires from this world? I'm curious. “

The three of them sat down and started reading, comparing notes, Donovan supplying the differences with the afflicted, Dana those about hers and Ric's world.

Vampires, here, were radically different from either of their worlds', they found out.

First of all, they weren't undead or anything, at least, not in the way the children were used to. Vampires were all born that way, they were some sort of para-human magical species. They could have children with humans, but didn't give birth to hybrids. It was more of a fifty-fifty between human and vampire for the child. Sometimes the human children were “part-vampire”, but it only meant they had some vampire traits, while still being humans.

They were stronger and faster than a human being, true, but couldn't do normal magic. Their magic was all blood magic, which made them very good healers, as long as they managed not to go for the bleeding injury each time someone came with a cut. Not all of them had that much control. And vampire blood could be used as a fast cure for external and internal wounds, since it boosted the healing of the receiver for a time. It was not, on the other hand, to be used on pregnants women unless absolutey necessary, because it always, without fail, killed the baby.

They healed fast, and an injury could be totally reversed if they drank blood right away. To kill them, one had to aim at the head or the heart, no matter the manner of killing, because they survived everything else. They weren't immortal and lived just as long as a human being.

They didn't fear the sunlight. It only sealed away their non-human capacities, healing and otherwise.

They drank blood to live, that much was true, but, and both Dana and Donovan found that deeply unfair, they barely needed between two and five liters a week. More than five liters a week was considered gluttony. They also ate like everyone else, perhaps a bit less. The two Slytherins grumbled something about needing way more than that not to desiccate, and how it must be easy for the vampiric community of this world to go unnoticed if they had such an advantage.

Their bite mark never healed completely, and could affect the victim a bit, like, by a higher resistance to poisons if you were lucky, or tingling if you weren't, but it certainly had never turned anyone into a vampire in the course of history.

Alaric ignored their complaining, and moved onto the specific looks of a vampire, which had both of them shutting their mouth immediately.

Because a vampire was, in fact, very easy to distinguish in this world. Their looks, sure, didn't belongs only to them, and a few humans looked like that too, but still, if you knew what you were looking for... They were, plainly speaking, gaunt-looking, bordering on pallid, red-eyed, although they usually wore glasses or contact lenses not to be noticed these days. And, a dead giveaway was the fact that they had fangs which did not retract. Nothing completely obvious, but if they opened their mouth large enough...

Dana and Donovan, vainglorious as they were, suddenly decided they were perfectly happy with their own brands of vampirism, and with not being vampires in this life too.

Alaric rolled his eyes, and closed the books.

He had known all that already, but reading it again, here, with Dana next to him, made him feel anxious. He knew he didn't fit in the “part-vampire” category, and there were little to no chance that anyone would suspect anything if he was careful, but he had just discovered that Hogwarts had three other former vampires, a soon-to-be fourth in Wren Lowe, whom he was certain to see often.

When they all headed down to eat dinner, this tuesday morning, Ric had a difficult time hiding his anxiety.

Coming to Hogwarst, all of a sudden, didn't seem like such a good idea.

Unfortunately, he was already here, and he'd have to deal with it.

 

 


	5. TOSS

The week went by slowly, the first years still learning more magical theory than anything else. Dana and Alaric saw the others, except those they had class with, once or twice, in the corrifors, in the Great Hall. They gave each others a nod, and it stopped there.

Dana made a point to avoid the second year Gryffindors at all cost.

Then friday arrived. Dana was a bit nervous, she had to admit, to officially meet the rest of the Twice Over Society – or, as Donovan Lowe called it, TOSS. First because she wouldn't be able to avoid Lexi there, second because she really, really wondered what the others considered a proper introduction for people like them. Donovan assured her that almost everyone in the group had done some serious shit, but the girl couldn't help to wonder: what did “serious” mean to them? To a bunch of normal people, one or two murders were some serious shit... Damon Salvatore had had the blood of hundreds on his hands. Not quite the same thing.

A little before breakfast, Dana, Donovan and Root were in a corner of the Slytherin common room, ostensibly away from the others students – the girls Dana had started to make friends with had seemingly understood to leave her alone when she was with the two boys. Besides, it was early, not everyone was up yet.

Root muttered something under his breath, and Donovan rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, Root, you can't possibly have killed more people than Reese did. And he's certainly not the worst one in our bunch, so honestly, I think you're safe.”

This, Dana caught herself thinking, was the reason they kept away from the other Slytherins.

“Yeah, maybe, but John...”

Donovan winced, and Root corrected himself.

“...sorry, Reese killed for his country. Because it was his work, you know, or at least to protect someone. I was a killer for hire for almost two decades before I finally learned I could be a better person.”

“And Dana and I were vampires. We've probably killed more people than you, Reese, Lowe and Ric together. Don't be stressed about it. Besides, the older ones will be the first to talk.”

Dana scowled.

“Easy for you to say, you knew about who you used to be long before we did. You're used to it.”

Students started coming into the common room, heading to the Great Hall. Donovan sighed, and they stood up to go and get something to eat too.

Still, they weren't done talking yet.

“One thing you need to know: our age when we died certainly doesn't mean anything this time. Be particularly cautious aroud Gabrielle, at least at first, because she's completely out of our league. Like, Lexi's the second oldest, almost five hundreds years old, but Gabrielle was alive even before Humanity came to be, in her world.”

“What was she, exactly?”

“That's for her to say, I'm afraid. You wouldn't want me to be the one to spill you were a bloodsucker to the others before this evening, would you, Dana?”

“Not particularly, no.”

The three first year Slytherins ate their breakfast quickly, before ducking out of the Great Hall. The room was great and all, but nor particularly suitable for this kind of conversations. Dana caught Alaric's eyes just as she was leaving...

Donovan stopped in a recess, and Root almost walked in Root, who raised an eyebrow at her. Dana pretended she hadn't been distracted, and Root's amusement turned into a smirk.

“Do you 'like' Alaric more than we know, Salvatore?”

Dana did her best to stare at the brown-haired boy blankly.

“We're eleven, Root.”

“Which only means that you're going to be all over the poor boy when puberty kicks in, since you're already making him lovey-dovey eyes.”

Dana squinted at Root. Root squinted at Dana. Donovan sighed, and smacked them both on the back of the head – easy for him, he was taller than them both. Root and Dana squinted at Donovan.

It didn't seem to faze him much.

“Could you two focus for a moment? I want to give you a fair warning now, but if you're not listening...”

“A fair warning about what?”

Root seemed put off by the mention of a “warning”, like, what, were there rules in their supersecret undead-or-not-quite club? Samantha Groves had never liked rules, and Samuel Groves didn't either.

Donovan winced.

“About Peeves. Dumbledore cast a repelling charm, special poltergeist edition, on the room TOSS uses, as soon as he understood what Lowe's and Reese's club really was about, to keep the pest out and protect out secrets, but Peeves still knows there's a secret for every member of the club. And if he can't come in, he still makes sure to see who enters every year. He might pester you after that, and you'll definitely have your own thought-by-Peeves nickname, because he knows we're 'interesting'. So watch yourself when you go to the room at six o'clock, and make sure not to let him bully you. If you stand your ground, he'll be less likely to target you more.”

Root and Dana shared an incertain look, remembering too clearly the poltergeist from last wednesday – apparently Peeves had a schedule for the new year: pester the new Gryffindors the first day, after the feast, annoy the Ravenclaws on the second day, sneer at the Slytherins on the third, and stalk the Hufflepuffs on the fourth.

Needless to say the two kids hadn't appreciated the attention.

“He'll target us more than the other students?”

Donovan shrugged.

“Well, us and whoever is unfortunate enough to end up on his radar. Potter will certainly get it too. Too famous to pass up, and completely star-eyed at this point. For us, there's only Gabrielle whom he doesn't bother; the others try not to care so much, because Peeves gets bored if you don't react. He leaves you alone for a few days, then tries again...”

“What's so special about Gabrielle Shurley?”

Donovan laughed drily, and Dana thought she wanted an older sibling too, to tell her about the traps beforehand. Too bad she was the first and only child of Alba Salvatore.

“From what Lowe told me, Gabrielle's worse than Peeves when she wants, that's why.”

Their lessons this days went quietly, except that one incident when Root threw her textbook at Malfoy, and Donovan and Dana hid the evidence before Professor McGonagall could prove anything.

After lunch, Dana slipped away from the Slytherin table, and joined Alaric who was already waiting for her outside. They had some time left before their last lesson, Transfiguration for him and Charms for her. They went and sat in the grass for a time.

Ric was the first one to speak about his classmates.

“Joshua's a bit weird, and fancy himself a famous reporter, but I like him enough. I'm not so sure about the other boys in my dormitory, though.”

Dana chuckled, and tossed a handful of herbs on her friend for no particular reason.

“I'm sharing my time between Leane, Daphne, Mary and Julia, and Root and Donovan. These two are fun, you know. And it's nice knowing someone who has the same... gender problem as me.”

Root, as the boy had confirmed, had been a woman in his first life.

“Donovan's a bit disdainful at times, but I'm pretty sure it's been etched into him at birth, because it's almost as if he doesn't want to appear full of disdain and anger, but his face is just... stuck... like that? Anyway, wasn't there another one in your House too?”

Ric nodded slowly, busy with getting the grass out of his hair. It was a bit weird seeing him with longer hair, Dana thought – then again, it was weird too to be seeing him as a eleven years old boy. And Dana guessed it was even weirder for him, since this time around, she was a girl.

“James Norrigton, second year. I didn't get much out of him, to be frank, but he seems to be a stern guy. All I know for now was that he had a non-accidental encounter with a sword that put an end to his life, and that he doesn't like cursed ships.”

“This sound... piratey?”

Ric grimaced, and threw the last remaining blade of grass back at her.

“That's what I said too. You should have seen the dirty look he gave me...”

“Caroline-level?”

Alaric laughed, and got up.

“Anyway, I think we should be going. Wouldn't want to be late to class.”

Dana groaned, rolled on her side in the grass, and made a point to demonstrate how exactly she felt about that. Ric didn't seem impressed.

“See you at five thirty, one-eyed witch statue? We'll go to the club room together?”

“Alright. I'll tell the boys.”

Alaric had a hard time paying attention during the next class, very curious about what would happen at the Twice Over Society, about the kind of people who were part of it, but since he was a good student, he didn't miss much – though McGonagall eyed him doubtfully once or twice. Ric smiled sheepishly, and focused back on the lesson each time, which was apparently enough not to get told off.

After Transfiguration, the boy managed to finish half his homework for the next week before heading to the meeting point. He had no idea what Dana had been doing, waiting for the meeting hour, but he would bet she hadn't been studying. Her loss, she'd have to spent more of her week-end working, while Alaric would be free to roam through the castle.

He scooped up his books and pieces of parchment from the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall – he quite liked doing his homework there, surprisingly, but that probably had something to do with the fact that few students were present. Beginning of the year, last day of school in the week, Alaric knew the excuses all too well. He had already been a student and after that a teacher in his first life.

Just as he walked out of the Great Hall, someone put a hand on his shoulder.

“Alaric Saltzman, right?”

Ric turned back on his heels, his eyes fixing on the slightly older girl who had followed him out of the Hall. Familiar.

Light blond, round face, brown eyes and tan skin. Second year Gryffindor, her tie badly knotted, and golden, definitely muggle earrings. Oh.

He smiled awkwardly.

“Lexi, right? We've met, just before...”

The former vampire nodded. No need to elaborate. They both knew what Ric was talking about.

“Yeah, I'm Alexia Branson. Do you know how to get to the club room?”

“...Theoretically. I mean, I know where it's supposed to be, but I've never been there myself, not yet. I... I was supposed to meet with the three others in my year at the one-eyed witch statue, and Donovan would have showed us the way.”

Alaric wasn't sure if talking about Dana right now would be a bright idea, considering Damon Salvatore had been the one to kill Lexi Branson. So he decided not to talk about the other girl yet, unless the Gryffindor asked.

“Lowe's little brother, eh? Yeah, I guess his brother showed him the club room already. Still, I'd rather come with you, just in case.”

Ric managed half a smile, already wondering how Dana would react when she'd get there and see Alexia Branson standing next to him. Although, the reunion of the two was kind of inevitable anyway, so perhaps it'd be better if they got rid of it already?

As they walked to the statue, the older student mused aloud.

“So, four new kids this year? It's the most we've ever got. Lowe and Reese were only two, then it was Carter and Shurley, and last year, Norrigton, Harvelle and me. This time there's you, obviously, Lowe Jr, and who else?”

“Donovan, Dana, and Root, I mean, Samuel are in Slytherin.”

Alexia frowned, but shrugged. Considering they weren't all coming from the same worlds, she had probably assumed the two she didn't know about weren't from her world.

After all, it was “Dana” Salvatore, not “Damon”, and Ric hadn't said her last name.

“What kind of nickname is Root, exactly?”

Or there was that. Of course. Root did have an odd nickname, Alaric had to admit.

“No idea.”

The girl shrugged, and continued.

“I can already tell you there will be Wren Lowe and Balthazar Shurley in two years, because their siblings are already there, but apart from that? I'm not totally sure how this all works. The only thing we ascertained was that we're all 'dead'. After that...”

They arrived in sight of the statue, and Ric's heart missed a beat when he saw that the three Slytherins were already present. Meaning, Dana was here, and the girl's eyes were glued to Alexia as the two of them made their way towards the others.

Ric managed a feeble “hey”, then took a step back as the two girls stared at one another.

Sensing that something was happening, Root and Donovan shared a worried look.

Then Alexia's lips curled into a smile, and the older girl almost purred her next words.

“Damon... So surprised to see you. Weren't you a bit more... boyish, when you killed me?”

Dana's face seemed to hesitate between an awkward twitch of the upper lip, and an irritated scowl.

“Would you believe me if I told you I didn't do it on purpose?”

Alexia cocked an eyebrow at the younger girl.

“You very plainly explained to me why you had to kill me right before you stacked my heart, so what do you think? That aside, I must say Slytherin does suit you.”

There was a silence after that, and while none of the girls made a move against the other, while not even their stances were aggressive, the boys weren't fooled. The tension was building up, and if the girls didn't know what to do with it for now, it certainly wouldn't last. If things went on any longer, someone would get punched, at the very least...

“I see you're being friendly here.”

Everyone, and I instist, everyone started at the soft, low voice that came from behind Alexia Branson. Ric turned on his heels immediately, Dana's, Donovan's and Root's eyes shot up and past Alexia, who herself seemed to relax after the fright... yet not entirely. Like, she knew who was behind here, and she knew there wasn't a threat, but still – deep down, she was still unerved.

“Reese.”

The fourth year Gryffindor, indeed, was the one standing behind the second year. No one had heard or seen him approach – Root didn't seem surprised by that, Dana noted.

“Lexi. I see you've taken the initiative to lead our new members to the club room, so why don't we do just that?”

John Reese had a sweet, deceiving smile, Ric decided. Not that the smile itself was a lie, because it was genuine, if controlled, but it also wasn't the smile of someone with a peaceful mind. It belonged to a man – a teenager, for now, but it wouldn't always be so, and it hadn't always been so – who smiled, not because he was happy, but because it was the social thing to do.

Alexia Branson finally lightened up, and a cheerful smile took over – not that she wasn't aware of the threat Reese could be, but simply that she knew she had no reason to fear him. Alaric knew the feeling; in Mystic Falls, with all the supernatural beings who could rip your throat in a blink, it was a given. Someone could be dangerous in potential, without actually be a danger to you, simply becaue they had no reason to go after you – and you'd better hope things remained so.

“Of course, Reese. Time to meet the extended family, kiddos!”

Donovan gave Alexia a disbelieving look, and followed Reese as the older boy turned around, heading for the stairs. Ric slid in a pace next to the second year gryffindor girl.

“Is his hair really silver, Alexia?”

He was curious, and it didn't seem dyed.

“Call me Lexi. And yes, it's really silver. Now. It used to be black, but... Well. That's personal. Let's just say that while our previous lives certainly hold the most terrible events, our current lives aren't always perfect either.”

Lexi glanced at the older boy, who had Dana, Root, and Donovan just behind him. Funny enough, when you think about their respective tie colors; three Slytherins following a Gryffindor's pace. Maybe they had seen something in John Rykes.

Not that Dana would ever admit anything, if Alaric talked about it.

Ric especially noted the worried look on Lexi's face, as she looked at Reese. She did know what the whole silver hair thing meant, then. It wasn't only her knowing that Reese didn't want to talk about it. Perhaps the older boy would eventually talk about it... Once he'd have gotten to know the new kids, not any sooner.

“And I guess 'Reese' is personal too?”

John Rykes' name was, well, “John Rykes”. And “Reese” didn't mean anything in particular; it was, in fact, another last name – but not Rykes'. There had to be an explanation there...

Lexi laughed quietly at that question.

“Reese and his aliases... That, I can tell you he'll explain this evening. This one has more to do with his previous life. And, possibly, something to do with the fact that 'Mr Reese' is pronounced like mysteries. Though the reason why Reese doesn't go by Rykes is personal...”

And there it was again, the worried look in Lexi's eyes. Alaric was slowly becoming aware that, indeed, if the others didn't have the same problem as he did, they certainly had their own issues even in this life. Just like Dana hadn't ever known her father, didn't even know who her father was...

The door they stopped at was on the second floor, and had a wooden sign engraved with the words “Twice Over Society – members only.”

Lexi and Reese didn't open the door yet, though, sharing an annoyed look...

...And Peeves appeared out of nowhere, yelling “Boooh!” at the teens with a manic grin on his face. The poltergeist looped around them, barely avoiding Root who didn't move an inch, a scowl already inked on her face. The older students sighed. Peeves somersaulted, and ended up nose to nose with Reese... Except the poltergeist was upside down.

“Well isn't that Scary Johnny and Scary Lady with the young ones! I'll~ find~ out what you're hi~ding~ one of these days~! It's a pro-mise.”

Reese, completely composed, turned the handle.

“Certainly Peeves. But for now, we don't have time for your antics. Come in, kids.”

Dana, Root, Donovan and Alaric were ushered inside by Lexi, who glared at the poltergeist before slamming the door closed. They heard Peeves' last words as an ominous prophecy for a dark future.

“I'll start thinking about the kids' nicknames now, pinky swear!”

Alaric didn't want to know what the bloody menace would come up with for him.

There were five other teenagers already in the room. John Lowe waved from a comfortable scarlet armchair, and invited the newcomers to join them.

Ric heard Dana whisper “sorry for... you know” at Lexi – it made him smirk – as he sat down in a plump blue armchair. There were four different colors, one for each house, and it reminded him that all kind of people were in the same situation as him. He could already tell that however this was all going to turn out, it would certainly be... interesting.

The armchairs were roughly placed into a circle, with two low tables in the middle. The others students had put their school bags down around them.

John Rykes went to sit next to a black third year girl – dark coffee tone – with shortish hair sitting in a yellow armchair. Root took the green seat on his other side. Donovan sat between Root and his brother, who was discussing with another third year hufflepuff girl – golden eyes and dark blond, straight, long hair, not very tall – who was huffing at something he said. Then there was a second year girl in a red armchair – light skin, light brown eyes, light blond hair, light everything. Norrington grumbled something from the next seat, his hazel eyes lost somewhere on the ceiling. Lexi fell in the next armchair, Dana followed her, and finally it was back to Alaric.

Reese gestured for Lowe to start.

The fourth year Gryffindor cleared his throat.

“So. I've already explained who we are, and what we all have in common, but let me say it one more time, just to be clear: we've all lived another life, in another world, and it didn't end well. Now, we were reborn in this world, in a family that might or might not have anything to do with our first family, and we only remembered who we used to be after something, an event, a reunion sometimes, triggered us. Not always pleasantly so.”

Reese, Norrington and Lexi, as well as the other blond girl, had a dark look on their faces, but didn't comment. Personal, Alaric reminded himself.

“It won't be easy, but we've been given a second chance, and personally I intend not to be the psychopath I became in my first life. And here, together, we can talk about what we can't say to anyone else; it's where you can come for help if you're having difficulty dealing with this.”

Dana refraigned from rolling her eyes. She could already tell she would need some help. You didn't go from Damon to Dana without some confusion, and while for now she was alright with it... Well. Damon had undergone puberty too, once upon a time. She didn't even want to start thinking about the consequences this time.

And that was only her gender issues.

“On a side note, the Headmaster does know about our... condition. If you're ever in a problematic situation and can't reach any of us, please go to him for help.”

 _As if_ , all the eleven years old children in the room thought – it reassured them, though, to know that Dumbledore would help them if they asked... Something they obviously wouldn't do.

Lowe put his feet up on the low table, and the black girl gave him a dirty look, which he totally ignored. Just to spite the Hufflepuff, Dana surmised, the blond girl who wasn't Lexi did as much, a smirk on her lips – Dana would have done the same, if she hadn't been the newbie. Well, she guessed, she would do it next year.

“Now, let's present ourselves, starting by the older ones, and no, your age before you became who you are now doesn't matter anymore. Which means...”

Lowe's eyes slid shiftily to his fellow gryffindor boy. Reese rolled his eyes.

“Sure, John, I'll start.”

Lowe smirked.

“...And the Official Peeves Nicknames are mandatory.”

Reese stared – not glared, because Reese didn't glare, he simply stared with that little air of disappointment and / or menace, and you just knew – at the other John.

Root frowned, undeterred by the Stare – he knew it too well, and while it still did have its effect if he was the target, he had learned to ignore it as long as he wasn't the victim.

“The official Peeves nicknames?”

The black girl offered Root a bitter smile and an anwer.

“Peeves nicknames us all, and there are various iterations for each of us, but there are some that come up more often than the others. They are the OPN.”

Root looked vaguely terrified by the idea.

Reese waited for them to be done worrying – it was definitely worrying – about the OPN, then spoke up again. All the eyes were back upon him, even those of the older members of TOSS. Alaric guessed they were interested in the way he'd turn his story around this time... and by how much he was going to say. Nothing assured him that the presentation speeches were the same every time.

“Hi. I'm John Rykes, but everyone call me Reese, except the idiot over there, and Peeves, to whom I am, alternately, Johnny John John, Scary Johnny, and the Smirk, the Stare, that kind of nicknames.”

Reese didn't look particularly happy with that. Alaric could understand why.

“My father was American, and my mother British, both purebloods. War casualties. I currently live with my uncle. In my first life, I was... I was many things, but first of all I was a soldier. Also a police officer. A CIA agent. Then a vigilante, some would say. I had many names, and 'Reese' was one I used for a bit more than ten years. I can kill you hundreds of different ways, even now, and I assure you I'm not joking on that matter. I've killed several dozens of people in my various lines of work, to the point that I can't count them even as I remember each of them. I did this job because someone needed to do it, not because I liked it, but I was also very good at it. I never felt much remorse, which doesn't mean I like taking a life. I'll do it if I have no other choice... but I won't loose any sleep over it. I hope I won't have to this time around, though.”

Dana blinked. That was... honest. In a way. Also very vague. True. Mostly. She surmised.

Reese brought a hand to his chest, as if searching for a phantom pain.

“I've been shot, cut, stabbed, beaten, tortured, and about everything you can think of of that kind. Twice, I've been aimed a missile at. The second time, I stayed where I was, knowing full well what was awaiting me.”

There was a moment of silence – Ric surmised there would be one for each story. He didn't see what kind of comment you could do after such a presentation, not without feeling foolish or heartless.

Then Lowe took over.

“I'm John Lowe. Peeves calls me John John Johnny or Bloody Johnny, depending on his mood and mine. My brother Donovan and my sister Wren are both like us all, but they weren't family the first time around. I used to be a police detective in Los Angeles. Then there was a cursed Hotel, where ghosts roamed like the livings, taking lives and playing with minds. A serial killer of the worst kind started whispering into my ear, and because of the effects of the Hotel, I didn't notice anything until it was too late. I had become the killer's substitute, a serial killer in my own right. Particularly gruesome crimes, because that was what the ghost wanted me to do. I was also the detective trying to arrest said serial killer. I eventually understood; I snapped. I finished the ghost's work, and walked away, but due to circumstances, I continued killing, only, trying not to go after innocent people, not to do anything uselessly horrible.”

Just terrible enough, anyway. They all understood that, they could just tell from his tone.

“After one year, I was gunned down by my own precinct. It was neat. Don't make the mistake to think I'm free of my demons this time around. They only haven't been triggered, and I intend to keep it that way.”

The golden-eyed girl was next.

“Gabrielle Shurley. I used to be, you know, the archangel Gabriel, until my traitorous brother Lucifer killed me, because he's an ass. Doesn't matter if you don't believe me. My little brother, Balthazar, was an angel too, but you'll see that with him in two years. I was male, back then, but to an angel gender doesn't have the same... importance. It's accessory, I'd say. You might hear Peeves call me Her Lordliness or Loki-sama, because he's an ass. I may have yelled at him in Japanese my first week here, and I did use to pass myself off as the north god of mischief. And apparently Balthazar and I were reborn in a family with strong healing magic. Perhaps something to do with our former nature.”

The black Hufflepuff's back stiffened in her armchair as she took her turn.

“I'm Jocelyn Carter, but you can call me Joss. Peeves tends to call me Law and Order, so you're warned. I was a police detective in New York. I interrogated Reese once, then found out he had warrants against him in several countries just after he had left the precinct. Somehow, I started working with him to prevent violent crimes, but not before I got him shot by the CIA. Finally, one day, I brought down an entire organization of corrupt cops... which got me killed, and Reese wounded. I still don't know what the guy did to avenge me, by the way...”

Carter squinted at Reese, who did a remarkable impression of “I've got no idea what you're talking about”. Needless to say, Joss Carter knew better.

Lowe's eyes fell on James Norrington, who stiffened and scowled, but still spoke.

“James Norrigton. The blasted nuisance called Peeves thinks himself droll by calling me Herr Kommandant with a bang, even if I'm British, and commodore would be more apt. I used to sail for the East India Company, until I crossed path with a particular pirate, a number of cursed individuals, a ship of death and a heart in a box. Let's just say I ended up killed by Davy Jones and my own sword, and all that to save the girl and my honor at the same time.”

The blond girl who wasn't Lexi raised an eyebrow at the Ravenclaw and shook her head, before looking at the younger teens in the room.

“My name is Joanna Harvelle, everyone call me Jo, and I'm muggle-born. Peeves thinks of me as The Enemy since I started a war again the pest. I used to be a hunter, meaning I lived in a world where the supernatural wasn't friendly at all, and a few people in the know did what was needed to take care of the monsters lurking in the shadows. Which means exorcisms as well as beheadings. I'm used to do the dirty work no one else wants to do, because I couldn't just pretend I didn't know what was out there, what was killing innocents. Long story short, the Apocalypse happened, and I blew myself up after having been torn open by a hellhound.”

Gabrielle winced visibly at that, and Ric deduced they came from the same world.

He also noted that the number of names starting with “Jo” in their group was alarmingly high.

Lexi stretched in her seat.

“Pleased to meet you, again. I'm Alexia Branson, muggle-born, and I like Lexi better, please. Peeves nicknamed me Scary Lady. In my old world, I used to be a five hundreds years old vampire; tried not to kill humans; failed rarely, but still too often. Then a youngster killed me, framed me for his own murders.”

The look Lexi sent to Dana make little place for doubts as to who was said youngster.

It was time for the newcomers to present themselves, though, and Dana chose to see the older girl's accusation as a way in, as an invitation to take her turn.

“Well, you heard Lexi... I'm Dana Salvatore, but I used to be Damon Salvatore, the one hundred and seventy something youngster. To tell you the truth, I spent about one hundred and fifty years of that time being an asshole, all that because I was convinced the woman I loved was stuck in a crypt because of my brother, and so I hated the whole world. No point in being a vampire if it's not with Katherine, but can't kill myself either because the lovely individual might escape at some point. Only thing, she didn't actually love me, was only using me, didn't care in the least. I somehow ended up becoming someone halfway decent, became Ric's best friend, found love... then I died again, the Other Side collapsed, and I ended up... here. As a girl.”

Even as Dana tried to tell that with an air of nonchalance, her voice stuttered a little on some words, and some sentences sounded more like questions than affirmations. No one mocked her, of course. It was her first time doing that, laying down the bare bones of who, where and why. Of how she had become Dana Salvatore, in this life, with a second chance.

The first time was always difficult.

The second time too, for the matter.

“I... I don't want to excuse my actions, but I was truly heartbroken back then, and being a vampire, in our world... It was a lot of very strong emotions. If you didn't have control over them, it could become very ugly, very fast. And that's exactly what it did.”

Dana seeked Alaric's eyes. The blond boy smiled thinly, and prepared himself to speak too.

His story wasn't pretty either, and, he had discovered with surprise, very similar on some points with John Lowe's. At least, that was one person who'd understand...

“I'm Alaric Saltzman, but people usually call me Ric. I was a history teacher, and I became a part-time vampire hunter after my wife was killed by one. I tracked him down, found him, tried to kill him... Then I learned that Isobel wasn't dead, but rather undead, and that she hadn't loved me enough to stay with me over her obsession with vampires. That Damon Salvatore hadn't killed my wife, but had given her what she wanted. Somehow Damon and I became best friends... Except I had a ring that resurrected me if the cause of death was supernatural, and I died a good number of times. A ghost from the Other Side twisted my mind and my personality, and before I knew it, I was a serial killer. I tried to kill a bunch of my friends, and eventually ended up getting turned into an Original Vampire, meaning stronger and sturdied, on top of murderous. They barely stopped me... and I died.”

He wasn't going to talk about his current problem. Not yet. Perhaps never.

But they had to know that.

As Donovan started speaking, Alaric caught John Lowe looking at him, a comprehending look in his eyes. Yes, as Ric had guessed, he knew who he would be talking to if one day he had to address his days as a serial killer... They had something really unusual in common, the two of them.

Dana and Ric listened as Donovan repeated the story he had told them at the beginning of the week, the slytherin boy looking at Dana under a new light as he did that. Damon's Katherine was Donovan's Elizabeth, in more than one way.

Then Root finished, telling how he used to be a girl, how his childhood friend had been murdered and her faith in humanity broken, how she had been a depraved hitwoman for years after that. How she had ended up on Reese's path, and Hannah's body had been found thanks to him. How they had worked together, uneasily at first, then to the point of dying for the same cause.

When they all left the Twice Over Society, Reese turned the armshairs back to a light brown color.

 


End file.
